Essence
by Alaena Night
Summary: [IshiHime & IchiRuki] He really should have walked away right then. If he had, things wouldn't have turned out the way they did. But at the same time, if he'd walked away...Inoue would probably be dead. [Post Arrancar Arc] Ishida makes a costly decision.
1. Stolen from the Sky

**Prologue: Stolen from the Sky**

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own Bleach...wouldn't want to. So many **characters!** But I'm more than happy to play around with the ones that have been created... (lures Ishida with thread and needles and locks him in her closet) All miiiiine..._

* * *

**Rating:** (T) Teen for very descriptive violence and some language.  
**Pairing(s): **Mainly IshiHime, but will be strongly IchiRuki, as well.  
**Genre(s): **Drama/Suspense/Angst/Romance/Humor  
**Spoilers: **Lots. Bunches and _bunches_ of lots.  
**Summary: **Ishida must make a choice. Now that Soul Society has waged war on the Arrancar, he must choose which is more important to him: his promise not to associate with shinigami, or his duty as a friend. The decision may cost him more than he could imagine.**

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**

Ishida Uryuu glanced up to the sky as the very last star was stolen from view by ominous black clouds. A cool breeze swept down from the heavens, sending a chill through his body.

Ahead of him, Inoue Orihime walked away. Her pale silhouette became smaller and smaller as her footsteps brought her farther from his view. Three more steps and she would be gone. Halfway over the rise that would bring her into the next stretch of shadows, she turned, offering an apologetic wave. Her words barely reached him, but he thought she was saying, "See you later, Ishida-kun!"

He waved back, just slightly, knowing he should walk away, too, and turn from all of this, but he couldn't. He just stared raptly ahead until he couldn't hear her footsteps or see the ghastly shadow cast by the lifeless illumination of overhead streetlamps. He took a breath as if to speak and reached out, taking a half-step forward, but he caught himself.

He really should have walked away right then.

If he had, things wouldn't have turned out the way they did.

But at the same time, if he'd walked away...Inoue would probably be dead.

So when he heard her scream, he ran to her.

* * *

That morning's tranquil sky gave no hint of the turmoil that would tear through it before the next day dawned.

The early morning streets were free of traffic and noise, and a warm orange sun was just beginning to peek up over the tops of trees and buildings, setting the rooftops ablaze with the amber glow of sunrise. Strewn across the sky as if they hadn't a care in the world, the clouds took on the pale peach tint of sunlight. Insects and birds carried on with schedules set for them by nature. They didn't worry about tomorrow, or even the next moment. They simply were.

Through that tranquil morning haze, a single figure walked.

Except Ishida Uryuu was _anything_ but calm. For the first time he could remember, his lanky hair was uncombed, erratic and loose. Haphazard strands of hair slid over his glasses, obscuring his vision. Haphazard. How he hated that word. But for now, it was the only one fit to describe him.

Ishida walked quickly ahead, not daring to look back, afraid of what he might see.

What am I running from?

And immediately, he answered his own question. _My friends. Myself. _

I am running away from the things I should be running toward.

It wasn't so simple, however. Nothing was ever simple. There had been a time when the world had all been defined by what was right and what was wrong, when he had devoted himself to learning because he had truly believed that he could stop the suffering inflicted by hollows upon humans and spirits.

But it wasn't as black-and-white as that.

Ishida walked until he found himself in a park, and he sat down on a bench, turning his face to the sky and asking himself the question that haunted his thoughts. _My friends...or my word; my pride as a Quincy. Which one is more important to me? _

"I need to think a few things over."

Those were the words he had spoken.

"I'm sorry. I may not be able to see you guys for a long time."

He had walked away.

Was it really only last night that he and the others had returned from Hueco Mundo, the world of the Hollows? It seemed like centuries had passed. Ishida closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He'd gone home briefly in the early morning when they had arrived, but he'd been pacing ever since the first ray of light shone in the sky.

When they had taken Orihime from Aizen, he had worked together with two true shinigami, and those two were working under the approval of a shinigami captain. Soul Society had already planned an offensive against the traitor Aizen, using the information about Las Noches given to them by Ishida, Ichigo and the others. And now that they were back, safe, with Orihime, and now that the war between Hueco Mundo and Soul Society had been started, Ichigo most definitely wasn't going to stand idly by and wait to hear news of Soul Society's predicaments. He was going to want to fight. By doing so, he would ally himself with those Ishida had promised not to associate with, and thus, would become one of them.

Ishida couldn't rationalize this away anymore.

His word or his friends?

He could return to his old life, return to the strict studying schedule and the infinite silence of loneliness, or he could break the promise he had made. He could risk his father's wrath, risk losing his powers...risk showing that he really did care about more than that damned Quincy pride. He couldn't choose, because nothing was ever, _ever _easy.

**

* * *

**

By the time he grabbed his things and left school that day, the sky was starting to darken, tumultuous black clouds racing in from the horizon. The night would have been beautiful but for that. The heavens were cast with a beautiful array of stars, all glinting brightly in the sky like crystal shards lit by fire. Only a few remained visible now, though, behind the rumbling clouds.

It would rain soon.

For some reason, the heaviness of the sky seemed to weigh on his shoulders and on his step, slowing his fast pace down to an absentminded walk. His eyes focused on his feet, but they saw nothing. His mind raced over the memories he'd shared with Kurosaki, Sado-kun, Kuchiki-san and Inoue-san. It really didn't seem like much.

Just a while back, he'd known of Inoue only as a fellow handicrafts club member, a girl whose bright demeanor and genetic fortune brought her much attention. Kurosaki had merely been another bumbling kid with high spiritual power. At one time, the very last thing in the world he would have asked for were friends. He'd thought that he was all he needed. But then Kurosaki became a shinigami, and making friends was the last thing on his mind.

He'd come to Kurosaki as a challenger and he had found an ally.

_But allies come and go,_ he assured himself.

_Then why can I not imagine going back to life without them?_

He clenched his teeth.

"Ishida-kun!"

He looked up suddenly at the cheery voice to find Inoue Orihime in his path. "Hello, Inoue-san," he murmured.

_Push past her. Go home._

"Ishida-kun, you didn't come to lunch with us today, and then you didn't talk to us or anything, and every time Kurosaki-kun threw something at you, you didn't even look at him." She walked backwards in front of him, slender arms tucked behind her back, body bent low so that she could see his downcast face. "Something wrong?"

He cleared his face of expression and looked up. "Nothing is wrong, Inoue-san. Please do not take my actions personally. I have to make a choice, and it would be best if I stayed away from you until that choice is made."

Orihime's smile dropped just a bit. "Oh...about that promise?"

He nodded.

"I'm sorry."

"_It's not your problem._" The words came out with raw bitterness, and he cursed himself.

Inoue's expression was agonized. "Oh... I guess I should go, then." She averted her eyes and shot him a pasted smile before turning around.

"Ah...Inoue-san?"

She stopped.

"Please...please be careful. Aizen can't be happy about losing someone with abilities as valuable as yours, and...he might try to target you again. You shouldn't be out alone."

Inoue smiled, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll be fine."

"But..." Ishida cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up high on his nose so the streetlight's reflection would hide his eyes. "I could...walk you home."

This time it was her turn to look away. "I'm very sorry. I'm meeting up with Kuchiki-san and Kurosaki-kun."

"Oh...I see."

Inoue gave him a parting smile and turned around, walking away into the spreading darkness.

He wanted to go after her, but he couldn't let himself. At the same time, he couldn't leave, so he stayed until she had melded with the darkness. Ishida stared at the sky for guidance, but as he watched, the very last pinpoint star was snuffed from view.

And that's when he heard her scream.

* * *

He saw the hollow, and for the briefest moment, a hidden fear flickered through him. The fear of dying, the fear of action and reaction. He had worked hard to overcome it, but still it lingered deep in his soul. At times, he tried to comfort himself with the thought that as long as one lived, one wanted to protect the life given to them. As long as people were alive, they could be driven to do horrible things to sustain that life.

They could hide.

He grimaced inwardly. He could not be like that, not ever again. He had hidden from his grandfather's attackers, and through inaction, had allowed him to be killed.

That fear, that instinct to live...he loathed it. Being afraid could not help him. It could only hurt others.

He felt something inside of him, and despite his earlier indecision, he made his mind up in that moment.

Yes, life was important to him, and _yes, _he was afraid.

But there was a life more important than his own that he could not allow to end.

"Orihime-san!" He didn't realize that he'd said her first name. She was sprawled against the thick trunk of a tree, eyes open but glazed. The hollow had just recoiled from its attack. It was frightening. Most of the hollows he had seen looked awkward, uncertain, but this one was lithe and controlled, almost humanoid but for the animalistic back legs. Its mask had fierce slits for eyes, and deep red lines followed the edges of the eyes, sliding down from the mask like slick marks of blood and outlining the edges of the hollow's streamlined body. It leaned forward on two strong legs, their strength showing in the hollow's quick, tense movements. Its hands were like talons, with long, razor-like claws extending from them.

As it turned toward him, he could barely perceive the movement.

_So fast..._

But that was the farthest thing from his mind as another realization dawned on him.

He could not feel—and had not felt—an ounce of spiritual pressure. This hollow was able to conceal it.

One of Aizen's creations.

"Inoue-san!"

The hollow narrowed its dark eyes, viewing him as a mere obstruction. Ishida readied himself to summon his bow, but in one lightning-fast movement, the creature swung one of those arms. He wasn't sure where he'd been hit, but suddenly the whole world snapped out of focus and he was in the air, and then, with a sickening thud on the asphalt, he slammed down. He coughed and tried to bring in a breath, but his chest felt empty and heavy, every bit of air knocked from his lungs. He gasped, willing his eyes to focus, but he realized that his glasses were gone.

_Damn._

Ishida stood shakily to his feet, trying to draw a breath deep enough to satiate his lungs. The world around him seemed to tremble beneath his feet, threatening to overturn. His vision, slightly out of focus without his glasses, was darkening around the edges. Right now there wasn't much he could do.

That was another thing he hated. Helplessness.

"Hey, Hollow!"

He summoned his bow and aimed it directly at the hollow's head. His vision was innacurate. Damn, where were his glasses? If he shot now, there was a possibility might injure Inoue.

The hollow moved close to her, and she just sat up, back pressed to the tree she'd been thrown against. She tried to stand, but he couldn't see any more than that. The hollow completely obscured her.

When he was little, he had always been taught that one sacrifice was better than many, but he couldn't bring himself to fire when he knew Inoue-san might get hurt.

You have too much compassion. It will be your downfall, you know. You need to rid yourself of such useless weight.

His father had always told him this.

Bring it down in a single shot. To avoid the possibility of harm to others, you must be certain. You must not waver, Uryuu.

His sensei's words.

Neither helped him now.

If he tried, he could hit the hollow's head. Doing so would erase any possibility of harm coming to others or to himself, but there was a large possibility that Inoue could be injured. If he was fast, though, he could hit the hollow in a less vital place, but one where the shot held no danger of injuring Inoue. Once she was out of harm's way, he could kill the hollow.

If he was fast enough...if he could do this, then _no one_ would get hurt.

That was his only choice.

He fired. He knew his potential, and so he used his speed to send two quick arrows into the hollow's shoulders.

The hollow arched back from the blow, trying and failing to lift its arms. It turned around. He was no longer a nuisance to be ignored. Its full attention was now on him. _Good._

"Inoue-san! Run for it! Find Kurosaki and Kuchiki-san!"

She had stood to her feet, and from behind the hollow, she looked like little more than a doll. She shook her head forcefully. "I can't! I...I want to help."

_She couldn't help. Despite all she'd been through, despite the things she had forgotten and learned while with Aizen, despite her formidable powers, she had no intent to kill at all. She would only be a hindrance. But...she would not go._

"You aren't safe here!"

He aimed his bow as a soft sizzling arose from the wounds he had inflicted on the hollow. Slowly their range of motion improved. The hollow flexed its claws.

_It was healing._

"Get out of here!" he screamed.

She looked at him, then at the hollow, and her eyes searched the path behind her.

"You'll only be a distraction here," he said coldly. _"Run away now!"_

He saw the pain in her eyes, but he ignored it. As long as she ran...as long as she lived, he would have the chance to apologize for that.

She turned away and took a few uncertain steps. He sighed.

_Thank goodness._

He barely had a second to feel relief, because another feeling swept through him, banishing everything else.

Pain.

So fast...the hollow was so fast. He didn't even see it coming.

He'd been distracted.

He looked down shakily. His legs felt as if the slightest breeze would topple them.

In fact, he was pretty sure that the three talons impaled through his torso were the only things keeping him upright. He tried to breathe but he felt a wetness rising in his throat, and a cough came out instead. Frothy blood slid from his lips. The talons were withdrawn, the pain so much more intense than it had been before. As they came out, soaked with his own blood, his body fell down, tugging on the departing blades and deepening the wounds until he was on his knees. The last little bit of warmth in the sky felt like it had been sucked away.

"Run," he whispered.

Inoue had stopped completely, eyes wide, hands halfway open and trembling at her sides. She stared at him.

The hollow seemed satisfied that Ishida would pose no problem, and it turned from him once again.

Ishida tried to scream to Orihime but the best that came out was a raw gasp. "Find Kurosaki!" he said as loudly as he could. "Find him. He'll keep you safe."

Even though the hollow was advancing, Inoue Orihime didn't move.

"Run! Do it now!"

It was more a plea than a demand. He was losing consciousness fast, and he knew that if Orihime didn't move, there would be nothing he could do. She must have heard the emotion in his voice, and for once, emotion did him some good, because she responded. She started running. "I'll get help!" she promised.

_The hollow was hiding its spirit power, but if Inoue was able to get to Kurosaki and Kuchiki-san, she would be safe. They could protect her from any future threats. But as for this one..._

Ishida manifested his bow and aimed quickly, frantically, hoping that he could stay alert for just a few more seconds. He drew a bead on the hollow's head, and released the arrow.

The hollow disintegrated , leaving only darkness behind, and he saw the back of Inoue-san's head as she disappeared over a rise.

_That hollow...had he hit its head? Maybe...maybe not. Either way, for the moment, it was gone._

"Run quickly, Inoue-san," he whispered.

The last of the light around him faded as he fell onto his hands. Blood dripped steadily from the wounds, rivaled only by the rain that had finally begun to fall. He slumped to the cold ground as the rain and blood spread out beneath him.

_Run...and be safe._

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**Author's Notes:** I hope the characters are not OOC. This is my first long-term Bleach fic. **Please, _please _comment** and tell me what you think so far! Is this story worth continuing? (_offers the review button with pleading puppy eyes_)


	2. Dream Within a Dream

_Dream Within a Dream_

_All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.** -**_ Edgar Allen Poe

* * *

The past and present melded together, linked by fading shades of scarlet and dispersed with the falling rain. Streaks of water joined with the blood on his face as Ishida Uryuu lifted himself up by his hands. Silence fell around him. For the moment, Orihime was safe.

Even so...he had failed.

Again.

Was he really so weak?

Ishida tried to think back. Had he aimed correctly? His vision had been off, so the hollow could have easily just dematerialized and rematerialized in another place.

He might have sent Inoue to her death.

A shudder suddenly wracked his body, spreading a chilling, paralyzing cold through every nerve and every bone. He fell forward onto both hands as his outraged organs protested, coughing as if it would rid him of the damage wrought inside of him. Long lines of blood dripped from his mouth, falling to the mixed puddle below, and each pained gasp only made the deep wounds in his stomach more painful. He reached trembling fingers up from the water to touch the longest one. Blood slid even more heavily from the deep gash, aggravated by his jarring movement. His clenched fist slammed back to the ground as another wave of pain washed over him.

It felt as if everything inside him had been torn apart. Nauseating, staticky haze threatened to take over his vision, and it took everything he had just to keep from falling back down. His hands were almost buried in the water and blood, and they shook under his weight.

Pitiful.

His resolve vanished and he splashed down into the murky water. The sharp tang of blood filled his mouth, and stray pieces of gravel and dirt ground into the wounds across his stomach, an agonizing wake-up call he could do nothing about. Unable to resist unconsciousness anymore, he relaxed, resting in the puddle below him as awareness began to fade away once again.

He knew enough first aid to realize that this was shock. His body was conserving the little blood he had left, drawing the heat into the center of his body in an attempt to keep the vital organs alive. And he knew...soon there wouldn't be enough blood to do even that.

Soft, distant patters strained to his ears, the sound of small feet clattering on a rain-slicked sidewalk. The steps were quick, sounding in stops and starts; searching. The voice was just as soft, just as questioning.

"Ishida-kun?" The note of her voice was laced with worry.

He wished he could answer. He tried to lift himself up on an elbow, but failed again. All he could do was glance down the shadowed, tree-lined walk where the footsteps hailed from. He thought he could see her silhouette, but soon his vision had faded so much that it melded with the darkness around it, just one shadow among hundreds of others.

The lights...all the streetlights around here...why are they still out?

He couldn't remember if they'd been that way before or not. Only little slivers of light slipped across the street from distant lamps or back porch lights, making claw-like marks of illumination along the otherwise darkened road. Inoue entered and exited the pieces of light, there and gone like a ghost appearing and disappearing in front of him, her soft steps the only hint that she was corporeal.

The voice became more frantic at his lack of reply, the footsteps echoing the same emotion. "Ishida-kun, where are you? I...I'm sorry. I couldn't go back to Kurosaki-kun. I kept thinking—"

The footsteps stopped abrubtly as she landed in a little patch of light, where one of many cloudy tendrils of his blood had snaked through the water.

He heard her breath as she expelled it and gasped it in again. "I—Ishida-kun! Where are you?"

Her voice echoed into the darkness around him, frightened, frantic...calling, but it was far away, too far away.

He slipped into a dream in which the ice of the rain embraced him and yet another voice called his name.

_"Uryuu!" A light-haired man exclaimed. He turned coldly from a large window facing the dying sunset. Even the pale indigo of the sky was warmer than his father's demeanor. Anything was easier to face than that frozen stare. "Why did you go see that old man again? I've told you many times already. Stay away from him!"_

_A young Uryuu shifted on his feet. "But..." he muttered weakly._

_"No excuses! How many times do I have to tell you...there is no point in saving the dead. That's a Shinigami's job. You should learn how to save the people who are alive! I have no interest...and you have no talent. The Quincys will become extinct with your grandfather's generation. Understand?"_

_The voice gave no room for argument, but the young Ishida lifted his head and spoke solemnly, the softness of his voice not quite hiding the quaver in it. "Fa...father...why do you hate being a Quincy so much?"_

_For a moment, it almost seemed as if the cold man would usher him away as always, but after a length, Ishida Ryuuken replied. "...Because. You can't make a living from it."_

A frantic voice scattered the mists of his memories. Ishida opened his eyes slowly, blinking as the world above him came into a dark and delayed focus.

The first sensation he felt was cold.

The cold of the rain became clearer to him as the mists of semiconsciousness cleared away, and he found himself shivering violently. Each droplet of rain seared itself into his bones, the ice of his father's presence replaced abruptly with that of the merciless night around him. He felt the beads of water on his eyelids and cheeks, felt them as they rolled down.

But...how? He'd been on his stomach.

The next sensation he felt was warmth. Behind him...around him. He swallowed hard and flicked his heavy eyelids open, blinking against the rain. He opened his mouth to speak, but felt his teeth chattering together, so he remained silent. His eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness until he was able to make out a face. And a voice...he had heard a voice in his dream. Had she been saying something?

"Why...are you here?" he finally stammered.

Orihime glanced down. She opened her mouth and closed it again, her lower lip trembling. She reached a hand out from under him to wipe at her eyes, but she stopped when they both saw the blood that had wet her slender fingers. She shakily splashed her hand clean in the rainwater below and continued to hold him up, pressing a cloth futilely to the wound on his stomach. "I'm really sorry. I know you said to go back to Kurosaki-kun, and I really wanted to, but I couldn't—I couldn't. I know...maybe he could have helped, but I didn't really think too much. I thought maybe you had..."

She sniffed hard and wiped her face on one of her sleeves. Blood from the back of her hand smeared across her tear-streaked face. "I'm really sorry! I...I was really afraid. I just...I _know _I shouldn't have listened. I should have stayed, and—and...I was just scared. I _shouldn't _have been, though... and I ran. I'm sorry!"

He interrupted her with a firm shake of his head. "I...Inoue-san," he murmured firmly. "You're okay?"

She nodded. "But..."

"That's good. You...should be careful." His voice faded as his eyes flickered slowly in a losing fight with his ebbing consciousness. "Inoue-san," he whispered. "Please go. You may not be safe here. That hollow...I'm not sure if it's really gone. There could be more. Find Kuchiki-san...and Kurosaki."

_He'll protect you._

Inoue stared down, gripping his arm, as if his logic had made no impact on her. She tightened her grip and tried to lift him, but a spasm gripped him and he turned away to keep her from seeing his pain. He tried to take a breath, but it caught in his throat and he coughed.

He turned back to her, voice calm and cold, utterly emotionless. "Go."

Inoue shook her head. Her long hair fell freely over the side of her face, and only then did Ishida notice that her hairclips were no longer in place.

_But when...?_

He swore. He'd been so caught up in his own worries when they had returned last night that he had not seen anyone else's. As soon as they'd arrived, he'd walked away from them, and all day during school, he'd carefully not met their eyes.

_Foolish._

"Are you...?"

Inoue interrupted quickly, catching his glance at her hair. "I...didn't tell anyone what happened because I knew they'd worry. I was trying to shield them, and then something happened, and...it was all I could do to keep the pieces. But everyone was so busy... just trying to make it out of there. And no one noticed."

Ishida frantically tried to sit up. "Are you hurt, Inoue-san?"

Her fears came out in a nearly incomprehensible rush of words. "I'm fine but I can't heal you, Ishida-kun! So we need to get you to a doctor really fast." She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Why did you come help? Why...did you tell me to run? I could have..." She wiped harder, as if determined to stop her tears, but more just welled up in her distressed eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks.

Why? The answer was too easy. Because he'd never forgive himself if anything happened to her. She was too kind...too innocent... And far too hung up on Kurosaki to know the answer to her own question.

He blinked slowly, trying to maintain consciousness even as the shapes around him blurred and faded, cursing himself for making Inoue-san so upset. He tried to think of how to answer her, but another question without an answer came to his mind, blurring the line separating present and past.

Pain that had long been dormant rose to the surface of his memories as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Sensei..." the whisper came painfully, inadvertently, from his lips.

_Dead,_ his mind accused, as merciless as the beating rain._ You killed him. You didn't act quickly enough. Too afraid. You were always too afraid, too weak..._

He clenched his teeth, hissing in broken breaths, willing the memories to go away. They kept coming, though, flashing over his mind, eroding the barrier that separated memory from reality.

"Ishida-kun?" Inoue's voice intruded, trying to pull him back. "We...we have to get you to the hospital."

His voice responded almost instinctively with an insistence that surprised even him. "No!" His father worked there...at the hospital. He could not—_would not_—let that man see him like this. "Don't. _Don't _take me there."

"B—but—"

"Don't..." He fought against impending darkness. "Anywhere...any place other than that."

Orihime gave him a broken look that he took as a sort of shocked assent, and he relaxed. The darkness around his eyes accelerated, closing in, dragging him into a warm, delirious blackness that swirled with remembrances of his past.

Inoue gripped his hand hard, doing her best to hold him up even though he was losing the ability to help her. "Hold on, okay, Ishida-kun? Kurosaki-kun will find us, I know he will. He'll know what to do."

Ishida heard her words, but his mind didn't register them. The past and the present conjoined, intensifying his fears. He felt her hand in his and unconsciously gripped it, tightening it as a fresh wave of pain and memories washed over him.

Inoue held him tightly and sobbed. "Kurosaki-kun...Ishida-kun needs help," she whispered, lowering her head. "Please help..."

Those were the last words he heard before his awareness faded completely.

_Birds flew overhead in a sky as clear as glass, bright and reflective and beautiful. The gentle rustle of leaves contrasted with hitching breaths near to sobs. A small boy stood as stiff as stone, head bowed, both fists clenched at his side. _

_A warm voice; Ishida Souken, the source of hope in a world that seemed devoid of it. This was what grandfathers were supposed to be. The deep voice spoke thoughtfully after hearing Uryuu's broken explanation. "Hmm. Well, there is truth in what he said. You can't fill your stomach by being a Quincy. It's an important factor since he has a family... Yes." The old man nodded, gently pushing his spectacles up on his nose. "He is right in what he said. But you're right, as well...Uryuu."_

_The young Quincy sucked in a sobbing breath as tears began to fall, spattering the grass below. Uryuu hid his face still, unwilling to show his weakness. "But...I saw...Hollows...Hollows attacked people. I saw it! So I know that Shinigami can't take care of everything on their own. Why! Father must have seen it too, so why...does he still say stuff like that? Sensei, I want to get stronger! I'll become a very strong Quincy and then protect everyone from hollows! Then father will definitely...agree with the way of the Quincy..."_

_The old man looked serious for a moment, but then a smile lit his face. _

_"Thank you, Uryuu..."_

And in the space of a second, so fast he didn't have time to register it, that memory was gone.

More memories, colliding in his mind and yet surprisingly clear; a sunset, this time.

_The two of them walked together, grandfather and grandson, sensei and student._

_Souken spoke to the boy walking beside him. "But Uryuu, I hope you can understand your father's reasons, too... If the thing you want to protect is different, the sense of justice would be different, too. Understand this..."_

_"The thing father wants to protect? What is it?" The little boy wracked his brain. What did his father spend time with? After a moment of careful thought, he hazarded a guess. "Money?"_

_A soft hand came out and unexpectedly ruffled his hair. "Some day... You'll know some day. When you do...you will also know what you want to protect."_

Ishida sank farther and farther into the blackness of his memories, strangely at peace. Somewhere he couldn't remember, he felt himself being shaken, heard a voice... but he couldn't be bothered. Even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't have risen from this darkness.

_I'm sorry._

* * *

"Ishida-kun, wake up!"

Orihime jarred him gently back and forth, but this time, he didn't respond at all. His eyes darted almost frantically beneath the closed lids.

Freeing a single arm from around Ishida's trembling body, she unfastened the coat she'd donned on her way home from school today. The night's chill sank into her bare arms, but without a sound, she wrapped the cloak around Ishida's shoulders. He didn't stop shaking, but she hoped, in some way, it helped.

She fingered her free hair where the pins would have resided.

The only thing she was good at, the only thing she could do...and when it mattered, she couldn't do it. To protect and to heal, those were her abilities.

But _she_ had been protected, and now she couldn't do an ounce of good to rectify the horrible damage she'd caused.

_He was dying._

Even without extensive medical knowledge, that was one thing she could tell. If she didn't get help soon, he really would be gone, and even Ayame and Shun'ou wouldn't be able to do a thing to help. While in Aizen's captivity, one of those arrancar had told her of the rescue attempt. Later, he'd said that they were all battling: his kind, and her friends.

_"What would happen if they died?" _he had asked calmly, scrutinizing her with emotionless green eyes.

She'd done her best to pretend she didn't care, but then she'd imagined Kurosaki-kun dying without her to help him, and her resolve had cracked. _Sado-kun, Ishida-kun, Kuchiki-san..._ And then she'd said, "Then that's what happens."

More tears built in her eyes. No. It wasn't. She _couldn't_ let that happen.

Orihime stood, trembling, to her feet. She'd always been bad with this kind of thing. Under pressure, she too often crumpled. But she couldn't do that now.

Orihime released enough spiritual pressure to let anyone aware of it know where she was. If she was lucky, Kurosaki-kun and Kuchiki-san would pick up on it and help, but for now, she had to find the hospital. It didn't matter if Ishida-kun didn't want her to. If she wanted him to live, it was her only choice.

Each step she took felt like a horrible betrayal, but with each one, she reminded herself that she had no other options. She had to hurry.

* * *

Busy.

All of Soul Society bumbled around like lab rats, suffering desperately from the loss of three captains in such a short period of time. Tousen-taichou...Aizen-taichou...Ichimaru-taichou...their absence had left a gaping wound in the Gotei 13. Now, with little other choice, Soul Society had been forced to act against Aizen.

At least, in their frantic preparations, they would not sorely miss the absence of one other captain for a few minutes. If they questioned him about his absence, then he had a ready excuse. Of course he would not be questioned, though. As the president of the scientific institute, Kurotsuchi Mayuri had _many_ reasons to go to the real world, and many allowances were made.

He came through on the other side, carefully masking his presence just in case any of those rookie shinigami could sense him.

His mission was simple. He expected no interference.

Glancing around, he saw very little of interest, so he continued quickly to his destination.

It was dark here. He sighed as he silently navigated his way to the location of his target. Glancing down into the unnaturally dark water around his feet, he stepped disgustedly onto the sidewalk, momentarily wondering how messy this particular specimen was going to make him. He should have brought Nemu.

He smiled as he looked at the battered boy beneath his vision.

"You see, Quincy? It's just as I said before. I will live...and you will die."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **_Thank you guys **so much**! I love every last one of my reviewers to death. You guys are my inspiration to keep writing._ _Anyway, at best guesstimate, this will probably run around six or seven chapters, but I've learned to not limit it...because I'm always sooo unbelievably wrong. __Heh...**please review?** (pitifully points to the purple button) ... (yay for alliteration!)_


	3. Shards of Remembrance

**Shards of Remembrance**

**Disclaimer: **_No owning of Bleach going on here. None at all. (_stuffs a gag in Ishida's mouth and whistles as he noisily tries to escape_) It's my cat, I promise! Anyway, step with care. You are entering the demented mind of this author._**

* * *

**

Inoue's heart thudded painfully in her chest. A billion options flashed through her mind. Better options; things she _could _have done but hadn't.

"No!"

She actually spoke the word aloud as she ran. She couldn't think of other things. She had to be like Kurosaki-kun. She had to make one choice and stick to it, no matter what. Thinking took too much time.

For once in her life, she wished she had a cell phone. She didn't know how to work them, though; too complicated. They were so small... and they always got lost! She probably would have had to get a new one every week. She shook her head to clear it. The hospital was not too far from here.

The Kurosaki Clinic would have been a closer option, but she wasn't sure if Mr. Kurosaki could take care of something like this.

_But what if he could? You're wasting time!_

She bit her lip hard to drive off the thoughts. _Not much longer..._

Finally she stopped, breathless, in front of a large building. Orihime rested her hands on her knees. Her heart felt like it was exploding in her chest, beating with a ferocity that made her dizzy. She'd been running for long enough that even the rain slashing against her bare arms didn't matter. When she stopped, though, the cold began to penetrate her flushed skin. _So numb... Tingling. Cold..._

She felt unsteady on her feet, and quickly stood up straight. Wasn't there something that said you weren't supposed to bend over like that after running? All the blood rushed to your head or something like that. It wasn't good. Inoue shoved the useless fact out of her mind and concentrated on steadying herself. She was too close to stop here.

Taking a gasping breath, she pushed the haze from her mind and ran the rest of the way.

* * *

Lightning flashed, and the crash of thunder shook the earth soon after. Rain streaked down the window like so many tears, all joining together in long rivulets while making their downward journey.

Resting casually in an armchair, the man ignored the feeling of a fading reiatsu, a feeling familiar to him. His eyes scrolled slowly over blocks of text and captioned pictures. The windows had fogged from the contrasting temperatures. It was probably very cold out there, the man observed as his eyes lifted momentarily from the page. His eyes lingered on the streaks of rain racing down the window for a moment before he glanced back down.

Despite his efforts, he reread the same line of text twice as a single grim thought passed through his mind.

_It's happening all over again._

* * *

Mayuri held the boy disdainfully at arm's length, brutal but grudgingly careful for the injuries. Apparently, the hollow the boy had been attacked by carried a sort of poison, because the child's blood should have begun clotting, but hadn't. Mayuri had wasted a good amount of one of his medicines simply to keep the kid alive. If he died, it would all be rather useless, wouldn't it? Experiments were much less fun on a corpse. There were so many limitations, so many opportunities forever lost when one died. Besides, corpses didn't scream, and he very much enjoyed the screams.

_You won't die. Not now. But it doesn't change the truth of my words._

Mayuri felt the Quincy's slipping reiatsu and knew that he would have to return quickly. Unlike he and Nemu, this human's body was disgustingly fragile. He could not withstand this kind of injury for much longer.

Kurotsuchi Mayuri quickened his step slightly, putting a bit of urgency into it, but still unwilling to truly hurry because of this damned human's weakness.

The child's body shivered at the end of his grip, a natural defense trying desperately to bring warmth into a body completely devoid of it. Despite that, though, the boy was fevered. Clammy sweat sheened on the cold face.

Mayuri grimaced. Such a mess. He'd probably have to spend so much of his precious time keeping this specimen alive that he'd have little time to study it.

He caught the faintest scent of reiatsu before it flared behind him. He hardly had time to spin around before a blinding white light shot through his vision. His eyes quickly adjusted to the light, though, and he saw a slender figure staring straight at him with ice cold eyes.

"Drop him. Now."

Mayuri smiled, interested despite himself as he surveyed his opponent. "Ah, now what have we here...?"

* * *

Warmth.

Calm, soft voices...caring questions...careful touches.

And garbled voices.

"Is she okay? Honey, do you know where you are? No! No...don't try to move. Shh...you'll be fine. Can you tell me how I can call your parents?"

Shocked eyes bolted open as memories returned. Inoue stared wildly at the nurse kneeling next to her as words tumbled out of her mouth. "Where is he? Where's Ishida-kun?"

The nurse looked surprised. "I'm sorry? You're confused, poor thing. You ran into the emergency room and started talking, but you were rather delirious—from the cold, I dare say, considering you weren't wearing a _coat_—and I do believe you fainted. It's been several minutes. We've been warming you up a bit..."

At this, Inoue noticed the blankets wrapped around her shoulders. She'd been laid on a soft bed. Wamrth had begun to return painfully to her fingers and toes. She bit her lip and looked up at the nurse again, trying to clear her head. All her thoughts tumbled foggily around in her brain. "Ishida-kun...is he here?" she finally asked.

"Do you mean Ishida-sama? I'm afraid he's already left work for today."

"No! I mean...Ishida...Ishida Uryuu-kun."

The nurse's eyebrows furrowed. "Hmm. Can't think of anyone by that name right now. I'm very sorry. Is this boy a friend of yours?"

Orihime nodded. Memories clarified so quickly in her misty mind that her mouth couldn't keep up with them. "He was..." _I can't say anything about hollows, or Aizen, or...I can't say anything! _But suddenly that didn't matter. Her fears spilled out. "He was very badly hurt and he was bleeding all over. He was wounded very badly and...And I couldn't help him at all. He was shivering and he was so cold and so warm and then he kept passing out and I was really really worried because Kurosaki-kun wasn't there and I didn't know what to do, but..." She stopped for a sobbing breath. "But I've wasted too much time and now he's probably—probably—"

The nurse seemed torn between quieting Inoue down or urging her to continue talking. "Shh. Calm down. Your friend was injured?"

Orihime nodded violently. Tears sploshed down her cheeks. "Yes! And I know he didn't want me to come here because of his father but I couldn't help it! He really needs help!"

The nurse gently pushed her back down, but pressed on. A button beside Orihime was pressed and the nurse's voice beckoned almost frantically for a doctor. "Can you tell me where he is?" she continued after a moment.

"He's—" Orihime choked on her words.

_She had known. She had, but..._

"I can't remember! On the way home from school...by the houses and the streetlights. I think..." Orihime felt adrenaline sear though her veins like lava. _Oh God. _"I can't...I can't... He told me to run, and I really did try to get to the restaurant, but I was too afraid..."

"Which restaurant?"

Orihime rattled off a name absently, then sank back into her thoughts.

"Shh, dear. How far is he from it?"

"Blocks...several blocks."

A long silence whispered through the air as a white-coated man stepped into the doorway. The nurse turned and spoke to him while Orihime rocked beneath the blankets, beating herself up internally for not remembering. _Not even that...when my friends need me most, I can't help one bit._

The doctor stepped beside her. "Don't worry about anything. We'll find your friend." He took her arm in one hand and plunged a syringe in with the other. In moments, all thought ceased.

"Something to help you relax a bit..."

The voice faded with the world around her as she sank into sweet sleep. She fought the blackness, trying to surface, lifted and strengthened by a tide of fear and memories, but she lost.

* * *

"I see. This is quite the interesting development. I had thought that all of your kind had..." Kurotsuchi Mayuri glanced down at the boy gripped in his hand, showing no intention of dropping him. Mayuri looked up again at his opponent, the slightest of smiles twisting his white lips. "A Quincy, it seems."

"I do not see myself as such," the man in front of him said, cold eyes staring forward through small spectacles. Pale hair slid over them in wet and unkempt locks.

A trace of annoyance flashed through Mayuri. "You have significant skill; you truly do. Now how could I have _missed_ you?"

The man standing in front of Mayuri gave no indication that he heard the question or cared to answer at all. His aim did not falter. "I will not repeat myself."

Mayuri smiled, but the expression held anything but mirth. He dangled the boy in his grasp, and Uryuu gave a pitiful moan, his face contorting into a sharp wince. "Is _this _worth something to you?" The wounds on the boy's stomach were rather frighteningly clear, and if Mayuri knew the Quincy clan—and he most certainly did—then this one would get indignant and impulsive, leaving him open to attack.

But the man did nothing. His weapon did not waver, his expression did not change, and his eyes did not wander. "I am not as menial and pitifully compassionate as my son. I have no qualms about killing if the need arises."

"Ah, I see." And yet the man had approached him fairly rather than shooting him from behind. Was he not as merciless as he claimed, or was this seeming courtesy mere curiosity? Maybe he had acted out of care for the boy. Mayuri loosened his grasp on the skinny Quincy's neck and the injured child dropped to the slick street below, landing in an unceremonious heap. The elder Quincy did not flinch.

"Killing you will only bring me pleasure."

Mayuri backed up until he was barely visible in a shaft of shadow. Only his face was clear in the darkness. "This will not be the last time we meet...Quincy."

Mayuri disappeared. He had no regrets. It wasn't as if he had lost anything here; again, his victory had only been delayed. And at times, one had to wait patiently for the bigger fish to bite.

* * *

Once the intruder was gone, Ishida Ryuuken stared down at the boy sprawled in the wet street below him. He let his bow fade back into the pentacle at his wrist, and he sighed, a grim expression spreading over his features. He could see a balmy medicine spread across the largest wound—oily in appearance—that blocked the heaviest bleeding, but the damage the wounds had wreaked on the boy's body were already too much.

It was only sheer will that kept the boy's overtaxed heart beating.

Ryuuken knelt slowly, careful not to wet his knees in the puddle below him, and lifted his son. Uryuu had always been thin, but his weight seemed so little, his face even more drawn than it had ever been before. The old mark on his chest from Ryuuken's arrow was barely visible around the torn skin, slick balm and blood. Uryuu's glasses were no longer in place, and his closed eyes darted feverishly. Each slow breath was barely present, just a minuscule rise and fall of the chest.

"Damn you, Uryuu," Ryuuken said softly.

But there was no time to waste. He had to get Uryuu to the hospital. Ryuuken stood, gently thumbing water from his son's eyes. His expression was as controlled as ever. This was not mercy, nor was it compassion. It was his job. As a doctor, he had made an oath to protect the living. And...at least for the moment...Uryuu was still alive.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **So...good, bad, absolutely horrifyingly terrible? Is that your final answer? Is anyone reading this? **_Please Review!_** Obviously this is a little bit AUish since the rescue Orihime thing won't turn out this way, but I'm trying to stay true to the manga and write this in a realistic way. Don't hesitate to call me on any technical errors, spelling errors...things like that. Thanks!


	4. Reflected Misfortune

**Reflected Misfortune**

You're filled with too much compassion. This kindness which pollutes your heart...will one day be your downfall.  
**-Ishida Ryuuken-**

_**Disclaimer/Notes: **Bleach is not mine. I'm truly sorry for the delay in posting this chapter! I was gone at my dad's for a week a while back, and so a lot of time that would normally have been spent writing wasn't. Anyway, I've finally finished this chapter after some research, writing, and rewriting. LOL, I hope it's okay, but as always, I am not averse to corrections, suggestions and constructive criticism. Thanks for taking the time to peek!_

**_

* * *

_**

Time. Precious time.

It was a very familiar phrase. After all, in his line of work, time was often of the essence. A single second—one missed action—and the result could be ruined beyond repair. A single second could stop a heart, start one, and store a year's worth of thoughts. Time was the very thing Ishida Ryuuken needed right now and couldn't provide.

His son's blood tainted the once pristine clothing he wore. Ryuuken knew exactly how much blood the average human body stored, and how much one could bear to lose before the body inevitably ceased its laboring and began to shut down. Yet the one thing he couldn't do was restore that blood. He could only use his abilities—the wretched inheritance from his bloodline—to bring his son quickly to the hospital.

He hated feeling at all but he couldn't help feeling just a bit lost.

He swore, gathering his composure as quickly as he had let it slip away. _This, _this was the path Uryuu had taken. Compassion led only to death, kindness to betrayal. He had seen that lesson learned many times, and he had learned it once, as well. But that was a long time ago. His tactical mind tore him back to reality even as he cursed himself for becoming distracted.

After all, Uryuu was only his son.

And he had warned him. He'd _warned _him that one day he would die because of his compassion. His unwillingness to kill or allow others to kill would be his undoing. To fight and to live for others carried too heavy a toll.

Uryuu...was a fool. Death, it seemed, was the only thing that would keep this child from sticking his neck out. Ryuuken arrived in the dark outside of the hospital, realizing only then that the rain had stopped. The emergency room shone like a beacon in the night.

* * *

"Ichigo..." Rukia gingerly tore a packet of sugar open and tipped it into her tea.

This would be her third. Ichigo looked on, eyes wandering to the street outside the rain was falling lightly, making the streets glint with a thin layer of water. "Hmm?"

"You know, I do have a reason I wanted to talk with all of you here."

Ichigo nodded. "Yeah. You're being recalled to Soul Society. They want us there, too, don't they?"

Rukia nodded. "They...sort of. The war with the Arrancar and Aizen is taking up vast amounts of resources, and..." She sighed, taking a test sip of the tea. She glanced down at it.

Silence settled over them. For several moments, neither spoke at all. It had been this way on and off since they'd arrived. If Orihime had been here, perhaps her characteristic silliness would have erased some of the awkwardness—or at the very least, refocused it, but...

Ichigo's head snapped up.

He and Rukia spoke at the same time. Rukia began, "Inoue-san hasn't—" and Ichigo murmured, "Shouldn't she be here—?"

They both went quiet. Rukia tore another packet open and tipped it in. "She's usually pretty punctual," Rukia observed.

Ichigo took one of her empty packets and twisted it sharply into a paper rope. It ripped, and he dropped it to the table. He glanced up. "Do you think...I mean, it's possible that Aizen..."

Rukia nodded grimly. Another packet bit the dust.

Ichigo slammed his fist against the table, already working through worst case scenarios and condemning himself more with each one. "We should have waited for her after school! I knew something like this would—"

Rukia stopped him with an icy glare, and countered his words with her soft tone. "We both know she didn't want to be babysat. She doesn't want to be a burden. It was her choice to go alone, Ichigo." Rukia stood. "You offered, remember? And...you respected her choice." She was silent for a moment. She drew a deep breath and stood. Halfway up, she stopped.

Ichigo felt it, too.

"That's Inoue-san's reiatsu," Rukia said. They both ran out, leaving the too-sweet tea and scattered sugar packets untouched on the table. Neither noticed the flustered owner who raced out after them, demanding payment. Neither cared.

* * *

To him, emergencies seemed routine. Disasters were a daily thing, and he had long since learned to shuffle life's tragedies into his schedule. Today seemed different, though. Usually, where others would see chaos in an emergency room or a surgery, he saw the underlying order, the orchestration and careful planning, but right now he just felt like an observer, numb and distant.

He blamed it on the temperature.

Emergency transfusions, IVs, medicines in, clipped orders and quick responses...things moved a bit like a black-and-white movie; he watched it, and yet he somehow still felt utterly emotionless. _Everything_ was colorless except the blood.

Uryuu had received immediate attention here, which was good considering the bustle tonight. Ryuuken couldn't help wondering if there were _any_ attentions that could heal his son's body, though. Probably not. Right now, they were trying to stabilize him long enough to take him up to surgery. A doctor questioned him about where and how Uryuu was found, what condition he was in, and the origins of the strange wounds. He softened the words, but Ryuuken reminded the ingratiating doctor of his position. He didn't need to be babied. He explained what he knew of his son's condition.

"And the patient..."

"His name is Ishida Uryuu," Ryuuken interjected.

The majority of doctors and surgeons who worked under him knew little of Ryuuken's life outside. He was completely professional while at work. The doctor snapped his mouth shut, glancing back at the busy trauma room, but then curiosity won over. "Those wounds... they weren't inflicted by a person, sir. They're much too deep, and the...the force required to cause the damage...it's unbelievable. There's also an unknown substance keeping his blood from clotting. The labs couldn't identify it. What _happened?_"

Ryuuken stared on placidly as the doctor awaited an answer. He had given them all the information that would be relevant in Uryuu's treatment. This curiosity was wasteful and unprofessional. He pulled a cigarette from the pack in his pocket and lit it, blowing the smoke toward the ceiling. A surgeon rushed in and a young doctor walked out, specked with Uryuu's blood. It seemed they were going to take him up to surgery now. The doctor beside him stepped away to accompany the patient upstairs. Words were muttered in soft tones.

Septic shock...blood loss...

Ryuuken didn't dare to hold much hope.

He flicked a seemingly disinterested gaze at the doors as his son was wheeled out on a stretcher.

"Fool." Ryuuken turned away and walked down the hall.

It seemed longer, brighter, and he found himself squinting. It felt somehow wrong to put the life of his son in the hands of the surgeons upstairs. He didn't know why he felt this way. He worked with those people. They were professionals. Ryuuken stubbed out his cigarette and got rid of it. He shouldn't have lit it anyway. Walking without being completely sure of his destination, he continued down the hall. A bright face poked out of one of the rooms, and a nurse smiled serenely at him before bending back in to pick up a chart.

"I thought you'd gone for the night, Ishida-sama," she called. "What's brought you back?" Her voice was bright and cheery. Ryuuken looked inside of the room. A young girl with honey brown hair strewn over a pillow slept in the bed. He supposed her face should have been serene, but it wasn't. Her face was pale and tight, terrified even in sleep. He nodded cursorily to the nurse as she walked out. She stopped when she saw him.

"I—Ishida-sama?"

He'd almost forgotten that his coat was streaked with Uryuu's blood. "Something came up." Control was everything. His voice radiated it. "If you'll excuse me."

* * *

Ichigo ran ahead even though Rukia was the best of the two at sensing and locating reiatsu. Rukia had to stop him every in a while when he ran ahead, but she couldn't blame him. She couldn't blame him, because he already blamed himself. He was so stupid. She couldn't think of anything to say, though, so she remained silent. They finally arrived at the place, and Rukia halted.

"This is it," she mumured. The rain seemed to have poured very heavily here. The slightest hints of struggle could be seen in places; running, sliding tracks through the mud, bits of debris, and on a tree beside the road, three claw marks carved into the trunk.

Ichigo wandered through it all silently, his severe eyebrows settling even deeper over his eyes. Rukia headed in the opposite direction, to a shadowed section of the street where she thought she'd seen a glint of light. Something else stopped her. A tendril of blood slipped ever so silently through the slowly moving water. She looked around more, careful not to show any physical signs of her discovery, at least for the moment. Some of the blood had settled in puddles and some had dried or diluted itself in the water.

"Rukia." Ichigo came over. "Can't find anything much over there. Have you—"

He stopped, too. Rukia winced as his face registered blank shock. "Inoue...?"

Rukia tried to speak, but she couldn't think of much to say. "Ichigo...it's not—" She saw something, and a sickly sort of relief flooded through her, only to be replaced with apprehension again. "It's not Inoue-san," she said softly. Lifting the glinting object from the shadows, she handed it to Ichigo.

He seemed confused as he handled the fragile-looking object. The confusion wore away to disbelief. He swore under his breath as he saw the small, cracked spectacles that had been placed in his palm.

"It's Ishida."

* * *

Ryuuken ignored the whispered rumors passing around. The nurses here were like gossip carriers. A single piece of information could travel the entire hospital in mere minutes thanks to them. The Karakura Hospital wasn't horribly huge, but it was a good enough size for it to still seem a difficult feat.

They must have overheard news of Uryuu's condition, because too many curious and semi-sympathetic glances flicked his way. Of course, he supposed if could have had something to do with the fact that he hadn't bothered to take that messy coat off yet.

"A _son?_" he overheard a short young nurse whispering to a colleague. "First I've heard of it."

The other, an older woman, shook her head sadly. "All over again..." she sighed. "You didn't work here long enough to know about Sada, did you?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't worry about it."

Ryuuken slipped into the bathroom and peeled his coat off, emptying the pockets and putting the bloody thing in the trash. His hands and neck were specked with blood, too. Walking to the sink, he squeezed more than enough of the grating soap into his hands and washed them until the skin ached. He washed the blood off of his neck and face until nothing at all remained. He made sure that he had cleaned everything away, and nodded.

Nothing had changed. Something like this would not break his composure.

He examined his reflection in the mirror. The outward display of indifference was still there. It was always there.

Something seemed different, though, fake, where it hadn't seemed that way before.

He walked to the bathroom door to exit, but a frantic collage of memories stopped him.

_Sada._

That nurse had said her name. Sada, gentle, so beautiful and open. Sada, shy, uncertain in some things but concretely assured in those that mattered.

Sada, his wife, who had let _her _compassion steal her life.

Ryuuken cursed those traits that she had passed onto their son. He cursed idealistic fools who believed that compassion could change the world. He pressed the heel of his hand to his head and forced those thoughts to recede. Calm returned.

He walked out.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **_Something I always found strange, and a thing which largely inspired and will drive this story, is the question that has never been addressed in the manga or anime. Ishida's mother... who was she? Why isn't she shown, or even referred to? So I took that question and thought for a long time about it, until **finally...**_

_**My brain broke.** But that's not the point. Anyway, this story will contain my perspectives on that and other things, and big bunches of (eventual) IshiHime and IchiRuki. ('Cause you can't have Ishida x Orihime when neither is conscious.) __Thanks for reading! I hope that I was able to write Ryuuken okay. And Rukia...and Ichigo. This is really the first story I've ever tried to seriously write the characters in. I probably have bunches to learn. Anyway, please review. Reviews are love and hugs and cookies to me and I'll give you a endless supply of slushies if you do. Also, if you didn't like, feel free to flame and beat me with these baseball bats. ::points to bats:: It's very fun._


	5. Torn Between

**Torn Between**

**Disclaimer/Notes: **_I don't own Bleach. I do own virtual paintball guns, though. Feel free to take it out on me if you're mad about the time I took to update. Or even if you're not, 'cause paintballs are awesome. The alert system is up again, it seems, so here's the next chapter! Thanks to every wonderful person who has reviewed so far!_

* * *

Hazy yellow sunlight sifted through thick curtains tied half-open, bathing the bed's occupant in warmth. In her dream, though, she'd been cold. It was the sunlight that brought her around. She sat up in bed, her dream fading slowly to be replaced by a sleepy confusion.

A revelation hit Inoue Orihime that swept the exhaustion away, startling her to a frantic semi-awareness.

This was not her room.

This bed was not her own.

And...

In a single moment, everything returned.

"Ishida-kun..." Orihime sat up abruptly, throwing the blankets off. _She'd...fallen asleep. Had they found him? And Kurosaki-kun and Kuchiki-san... She hadn't shown up to meet them. They'd be so worried! _Orihime stood. She was wearing a hospital gown she didn't remember putting on. So the first order of business was to find her clothes.

She found them folded in a plastic bag under her bed.

The door slipped open, and a nurse walked in just as Orihime was pulling her shirt over her head. She hurriedly tugged it down and turned. It was the kind woman from the night before. She smiled brightly, slipping into her skirt. She supposed if Ishida-kun had been the one to walk in, he'd be hiding his face and shakily lecturing her about how boys and girls didn't change around each other, but the nurse was a girl and she didn't seem to mind, so Orihime didn't worry about it.

"I see you're up and about!" The nurse said, grinning. "A good improvement over last night. I'm afraid we had to sedate you."

Orihime's smile faded just a little. "And Ishida-kun? Did you find him?"

The nurse laughed softly. "Would you believe it? Ishida-sama brought him in! I actually didn't know he had a son, but I guess I should know by now that in my profession, you learn something new every day." The nurse caught Orihime's look of worry and smiled. "He's...alive. I'm afraid I'm not supposed to disclose the patient's condition to anyone, but what I heard was gossip anyway, so I suppose it won't matter. He's unstable but alive. He got through surgery. Recovery will be harder, but I wouldn't lose hope just yet."

Orihime smiled, self-consciously brushing her skirt down. "Of course not! Silly me..." She looked at the ground. "Is there any way I can visit? I'm really worried."

The nurse looked Orihime over. "Are you related?"

Orihime smiled impulsively. "Gosh, no! I'm a friend. I..." Her voice faded just the tiniest bit. "I was there to see what happened. I'm worried."

The young nurse bit her lip. "Patients in the ICU are discouraged from receiving visitors, especially..." The woman paused. "It wouldn't be for long," she said softly, "but I do think you could see him for a moment."

Orihime nodded. "I'm glad," she said.

Out the door, down a hall, up an elevator to the frighteningly quiet ICU. It almost felt like nothing was real. She hardly remembered arriving here. She'd been so scared, so cold last night. She remembered waking up, but it felt like a dream, just questions asked and questions answered, frantic thoughts and then impending darkness. Everything was distant, and even though she wanted to see Ishida-kun to make sure he was okay, she desperately hoped that he wouldn't be here, and that, perhaps, this last night could have been a dream.

The nurse walked ahead of her, white tennies making the softest shifts on tiles of the same color. Bright overhead lights and pastel blue wallpaper lent the place a faux-cheerful look. To Orihime it only seemed lonely. The nurse finally stopped in front of a room labeled 309 in plastic lettering. "In here," the nurse said. "You can't be long. Another nurse will probably be in soon to check the patient's vitals, so let yourself out after just a little bit, okay? I'll find his nurse and explain the situation, but please remember to be careful."

Smiling softly as she opened the door with equal gentleness, the woman admitted Inoue into the room and closed the door behind her. Inoue walked through, wishing her steps were less abrasive against the whispering sounds of the machines in the corner. Somehow she felt horribly out of place. Ishida, eyes closed, was tucked under thin white blankets. His face, frighteningly pale even in contrast to the blanket, was nonetheless relaxed. Like Kurosaki-kun, he always seemed to have such a severe look on his face. She'd seen Kurosaki-kun sleep, so she'd always somehow known that there was something softer beneath that tough exterior he put on, but she'd never really imagined that Ishida-kun could look so..._carefree._ Black lashes settled over the dark blue eyes, and his expression, usually so harsh, seemed several years younger. Or perhaps not, she pondered. Now he just looked his age. He looked like every other boy in her class. She supposed he only looked older when he wasn't asleep.

But...he wasn't sleeping. Orihime just stood there, afraid to move. After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, she reached across his bed and moved the grey-blue curtains away from the window to allow the morning sunlight in. The light was warm and not too bright. It fell on a small seat beside the bed. Orihime pulled it out, wincing at the creaks the polished wood made on the tiles.

She settled into the cushions of the chair quietly, as if loud sounds would wake him, even though she knew they wouldn't. Her eyes wandered down to the blankets, which covered just to the edge of heavy bandages over his chest. She bit her lip. _I caused this to happen. _

I shouldn't be here.

She felt like an intruder in this quiet place. Why should anyone let a murderer visit their victim? By not helping, Orihime supposed it was largely her fault. "I'm really sorry," she whispered, glad, at the very least, that her voice didn't seem out of place in here. It was soft and sad, reflecting what she felt inside. "You know, it's actually very silly. I work really hard at school, because Sora used to tell me I should get smart and learn how to think. He said it was an important thing to go to school. I got to be the third, and I was really glad. But last night...I couldn't think of a single thing to do. All those silly superheroes in movies would have been much more helpful to you, I think. You probably should have gone home like you said you would."

Orihime's gaze fell to her hands, and she saw they were trembling. Slowly lifting her eyes, she looked at the still form in the bed beside her. His breaths were so slow, he hardly seemed to be breathing at all. She lifted a hand from her lap and touched Ishida-kun's, relieved to find that it was warm. She gripped it and held it in her own, apologizing over and over in her head even though the words didn't make it past her lips.

It wasn't a dream.

She wished it was.

Suddenly, the door slammed open. Orihime found herself both surprised and inexplicably angry. This place was supposed to be quiet. She spun around, pulling her hands back into her lap. The anger evaporated when she saw who stood in the doorway. "Kurosaki-kun!" Kuchiki-san stepped out from beside him, and Inoue's words froze in her mouth. "Ah...I'm sorry I didn't show up last night. You must have been worried. I was—"

Ichigo's eyes moved over her face and to Ishida behind her. Confusion built, evident on his face and in his voice. "What the hell? What _happened,_ Inoue? Are you all right?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." She couldn't feel her feet as she stood and walked to the door. She tried to push through, but Ichigo held his hands out impatiently.

"What's going on? We've been looking for you guys forever. You wouldn't believe how many nurses and doctors and 'please wait a moment, sir's we went through! We finally decided just to come up. So...how about you get back in the room and let us in before someone catches us and hauls us out?"

Numbly, Orihime stepped back, and Ichigo bustled in, his presence as usual taking up the room, warm and just a bit crazy. Despite herself, Orihime began to relax. Kuchiki-san stepped inside as well, gracefully folding her small form into a plastic chair.

"I'm sorry, Inoue-san, but can you explain what happened?"

Orihime nodded. "I went home from school yesterday. I...was going to meet with you and Kurosaki-kun. But then I saw Ishida-kun! And you know he was being all silly when we were at school. He didn't look at us even when you glared at him all day and stuff. I thought I'd talk to him and see if he was okay. He sort of told me to go away." Orihime rubbed her hands together and smiled nervously. "But then he asked if he should walk me home because of...well, you know. Aizen. But I said I'd be okay. And then... A hollow—"

"It was a stupid idea to walk home alone. I knew we shouldn't have left you alone!" Ichigo broke in, but was silenced by a glare from Rukia.

"A hollow attacked. I didn't feel it. Didn't see it at first, and it was suddenly _there_. It knocked me against a tree and Ishida-kun came. He told me to run and find you. To be safe."

"Stupid idiot," Ichigo interjected, but the glance he gave the motionless form on the bed was not of anger.

"Go on, Inoue-san," Rukia prompted gently.

Inoue shook her head hard, no longer looking up. Her words, when she spoke, were hardly a whisper, their tone laced with self-disgust. "I ran," she said. It was all she said.

Several moments passed. "There was so much blood."

Ichigo walked to the hospital bed and placed his hands on the cold railing. "How bad is it?"

Orihime's eyes widened as they caught Ichigo's. He'd heard the phrase, "like a deer caught in headlights," and now he could put an expression to it. Inoue's mouth opened but she didn't speak.

Rukia was glaring like hell from the corner of the room, but Ichigo didn't see. For once, though, he had the tact not to question any further. He stepped back. "Okay, then, we'll—"

The door opened, and a young woman stepped in. Her eyes widened when she saw Inoue, Rukia and Ichigo. She shoved them out pretty quickly, giving the group a reproachful glare. Inoue's torn gaze kept the nurse from summoning security, though.

The three stood out in the hall. "What now?" Ichigo murmured.

No one replied as they made their way to the elevator. It went down silently, each of its occupants aware of the sinking feeling it left them with. At the bottom, they shuffled out onto the first floor—the emergency room—and let themselves out. The sun peeked out from behind a tree, blinding and fiery orange.

None of them noticed the presence until their guest arrived in front of them. Ichigo's head shot up, his eyes settling on a familiar face as a smirk stretched his lips. "Heya, Reindeer! What are you doing here?"

Abarai Renji scowled. "Don't call me that. Rukia!" He singled the small shinigami out and pulled her aside. The others watched as unintelligible words were exchanged. Rukia's somber expression only deepened.

Ichigo stuck his head between the two. "What's up?"

Rukia said, "Orders."

Ichigo stood back. He swore. "I hate those. So what's it this time?"

"You," Renji said, "and Rukia. Both of you are to return immediately to Soul Society, with no exceptions. It's getting hectic over there. We have three captains gone, and the war is heading in the wrong direction. We need...ah..." throwing Ichigo a caustic half smile, Renji snorted and continued, "_capable _shinigami. It just so happens that we're desperate. Rukia, you are to return immediately with me to assist with the war." Renji nodded to Ichigo. "We need all the help we can get," he said grudgingly.

"But Ishida-kun!" Inoue had been standing to the side, but interrupted at that moment. "What about him?"

"What _about _him?" Renji said.

Ichigo looked Renji in the eye. "A day. I'm not coming until the end of today. There are some things I need to do."

Renji shook his head, hand snaking toward his zanpakutou. "That won't do, Ichigo. I have orders."

"I've made my choice," Ichigo said calmly. The hint of a smile tweaked his lips. "Wanna make me? Things are getting sort of boring around here." He gripped the artifact at his belt.

"If I have no other options."

Both Renji and Ichigo were grinning that same stupid grin that stupid people tend to grin. Rukia glanced between the two. "Men," she hissed. She slammed a sharp foot into Renji's knees and stepped up close to Ichigo with a look six feet taller than she was. "You fool! Do you think this is going to prove anything?"

She looked back and forth between the two, worry etched into her face.

"If you need to, you can go," Ichigo said to her, stepping back. "I'll follow soon."

Rukia looked at Renji, but his expression held no answers. "I'll stay here, for now," she said.

Renji met her eyes, nodding to acknowledge her decision, and turned around, muttering under his breath about how his taichou would have his ass for this. "I know too well by now that you won't come unless I drag your lifeless, bloody corpse over there, you blockheaded idiot, so I won't try. Both of you... It's not my fault if General Yamamoto burns you to a crisp for this." His expression hardened, and he spoke a somber farewell. "Come quickly... You're needed." Then, "Remember, this is your war, too. This is the world's war. It's not only Soul Society that will suffer if Aizen succeeds, but everyone...even your family, your friends. I...was supposed to tell you that."

Ichigo nodded once, and Renji slipped away. When he was gone, Ichigo stepped ahead of the others.

"Soon," he said to the empty space. His gaze slipped back to the three story window they'd just left, and he forced his eyes away. "I promise."

* * *

Eyes opened to a slowly focusing darkness and pain that throbbed perceptively even through the haze of heavy medication. Blazing sunlight made it nearly impossible to keep looking around. He closed his eyes. It was easier that way.

He wished he could make the light disappear.

Everything faded into a torrent of hazy feelings and was swept away. He'd begun to slip into the darkness again when the soft sound of cloth rustling and metal rungs jingling caught his attention. The light disappeared and he opened his eyes to a familiar face. He immediately tried to sit up, but a hand pushed his back down without the slightest bit of effort.

Ishida Ryuuken stood over him. "Good morning, Uryuu."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Okay... (beats head against concrete wall) Please, please, _please _comment and tell me whether this sucked or not. I'm sorry that there was no butt-kicking edge of your seat action in this one. This story will be mostly drama, though, soo... (continues smashing head into wall) **Please—_ow!_—review—_ow!_—? **I'll hopefully have the new chapter up pretty soon. Am I boring everyone to death with this story?


	6. Worth Fighting For

**Worth Fighting For**

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Ishida said, glaring at the man in front of him. "Ryuuken."

Ishida Ryuuken smiled wryly. "I see you still insist on that rebellious little indulgence of yours, Uryuu. I just came to make sure you were still living. In fact, it's more like I came to see if you had died. I dared not hold much hope. But I see you had something other than death in mind."

Ishida didn't say anything. He lifted himself on his pillows until he was as close as he could get to sitting up, and he met his father's accusing gaze with his own.

Ryuuken leaned against the wall behind the hospital bed, arms crossed, face nearly buried in shadow. Only tiny wisps of dusty light escaped from the curtains he'd closed. "Those wounds...Hollow; am I correct? It's easy to tell." He stepped out of the light, and Ishida tensed just seeing his face. That familiar expression, free of emotion and yet somehow still acid and demeaning, made him want to do anything but sit there.

Ryuuken said, "There was another with you. I felt the reiatsu from here. Are you willing to throw your life away for every single person? Are you really that stupid?"

Ishida's teeth clenched together. "She's none of your business!" His voice was raw with pain and emotion. He softened his voice and erased his anger until his face was free of all emotion. After all, he'd learned from the best. "Is this what you came here for? To criticize my choices? They're mine to make." Pain tore through him, and his next words were spoken in an agonized hiss. "That kills you, doesn't it? Not making my choices for me."

Ryuuken shook his head. "No. But it will kill _you_ to make them, if you keep doing so recklessly." His expression lost a little bit of its perpetual ice. "I knew all the time that something like this would happen."

"Then _why_ did you give me my powers back?"

Ryuuken shrugged and stepped back into the shadows. "Because. You have to make your own choices, whether or not they lead you to death. If even to cage you in my house was impossible, how much more likely is it that I'll be able to cage you within my will?" He smirked at Ishida's expression. "I learned a long time ago that caring is a waste of time. You're just like her, Uryuu. Like your mother was. Too compassionate, driven by ideals far too large for you. It will be your end, just like was for her. This compassion...this love of yours...it's safer to get rid of it before it hurts you. Or kills you."

Ryuuken walked to the entrance of the little room, his footfalls as cold and abrupt as his manner. He opened the door and stood there for a moment.

Ishida fell back against the pillows and shook his head. "If it kills me, so be it," he said.

Ryuuken walked out. "I hope she's worth it." His last words strained to Uryuu's ears.

Ishida stared after him until the door slammed shut. Silence filled the place where tension had once thrived, and he slipped back down on the bed. "She is," he said when no one could hear him. "She is worth it."

* * *

"Ichigo...are you ready?" Rukia stood outside of his door, huge indigo eyes following his each frantic movement. He bustled around the room for several moments before stopping.

"Huh?"

"We should probably leave soon. There isn't any time to waste."

He nodded. "It's just—I don't know...what to say to them. Karin...and Yuzu. I can't say goodbye, but I can't tell them where I'm going, either...or what might happen." He clenched his teeth and let out an exasperated groan.

Rukia scrutinized the crazy haired boy in front of her. It was rare that he ever said stuff like this to her. Introspection wasn't what was needed here, though. The reckless, tough Ichigo was what was needed. "Okay then. Forget it. Let's get going. I don't want to wait any longer."

"What the hell? Shut up. I have stuff to do."

Ah. There he was. "Whatever." She smiled slightly and leaned against the door again.

The lost expression still stayed in his eyes, though, while he wandered through his room, wandering reminiscently through his memories at least as much as he packed. He picked up a few things from his dresser and from his drawers. "It'd be stupid to ask when we'll be back, huh?"

"Yes," Rukia said.

Ichigo slipped the clasp on a small mesh bag and swung it over his shoulder. "I'm ready."

Rukia walked to the window as he walked to the door. She sat on the sill, looking back at him. "See you at the bottom, then." She jumped, and Ichigo walked downstairs. Once at the bottom, she stood in front of the window, watching as Karin acknowledged her brother with one of those short nods that pretended to be cool. Yuzu waved enthusiastically. She saw Ichigo's smile falter with sadness, but he kept it up for them. From their trusting glances to the looks in their eyes, it was easy to tell how much love they held for their older brother. Yuzu ran and hugged him at the waist. He rubbed her hair absently, pulling her tight against him for the briefest second. Rukia had envied him this family at times, but she didn't envy the pain she saw.

She knew what he was thinking.

It was possible that he wouldn't come back this time.

Karin gave him one last questioning look as he met her gaze, but then he walked into his father's room. Rukia smiled. She'd actually been wondering if he'd talk to his father before leaving.

* * *

"Come on in, Ichigo my boy!"

Ichigo felt his shoulders slump. He hadn't been able to bring himself to knock, and had been on the verge of leaving when his father's voice stopped him. He shouldered the door open and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. "What is it?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same thing." His dad leaned back in the chair inside of the room, arms crossed casually behind his head. A medical textbook lay open in front of him.

Ichigo's eyes traveled over the bedroom's furnishings. He rarely came in, but he didn't have to worry about anything. This place never changed. It had stayed almost the same since his mother. The bed still held room for two, still had those thick, soft quilts that seemed as timeless as the room itself. The light was warm, the colors of the wall a light peach that made even the darkest night alive with comfort. Ichigo walked over to the bed and fell down on the covers. "Ask me?" he accused. "You're the one who called me in here."

The only change from back then were the countless pictures of Masaki. When she'd been alive, it had been a single photo at the end of their bed, of all of them together, a happy family, the twins so small, curled up in Masaki's lap, and Ichigo, his face untainted by the usual frown, grinning hugely into the lens. Ichigo took his eyes away from them, waiting for an answer.

Kurosaki Isshin shrugged. "Yeah yeah. True enough," he said. He threw his son a conspiratorial smile from under his hooded eyes. "If that's it, I've gotta lotta work to do..."

Ichigo fell back on the covers and snorted. "Sure. But...I just wanted to say I'm going to be gone for a while."

He didn't want to leave. He always said he hated this room. Too soft, too reminiscent of days that would never return. But he loved the fact that it didn't change. In his world where nothing was for certain, this was the only constant.

His dad nodded. Ichigo looked for the characteristic idiocy but it was nowhere to be seen. "So...that's all I wanted to say," he murmured. "I have to get out of here."

He got up, clenching the fists buried in his pockets, and sauntered out. Right before he reached the door, his father's voice stopped him.

"Ichigo. Don't take on anything too big for you. Be safe. Promise me that, okay? Ya know, Masaki'd be mad if I let anything happen to you."

Ichigo kicked the nearest limb—his dad's leg—and sighed. "Whatever. Ah... Bye, dad."

"I'll _see_ you soon, Ichigo."

It wasn't a question. Isshin didn't allow it to become one. Ichigo's answering gaze was as much as a promise.

He nodded firmly and walked out.

"Go get 'em," Isshin said.

Ichigo abruptly turned back, but his dad's attention had already returned to the textbook he'd been reading.

Rukia was waiting outside. Her face showed a little snippet of sympathy, but it turned to relief when she saw his resolute expression. "Ready to go, then?"

"Yep."

They stopped briefly at the hospital and said their goodbyes to Inoue. "If anything happens, get word to us, okay?" Ichigo knew he'd probably be impossible to reach but it felt better to say it. Inoue nodded and waved until they were gone from view.

Ichigo glanced back and caught Rukia's eye. "I guess this means we can't turn back now." It wasn't a question. He didn't look back, but continued walking forward, until Karakura and all that lived there was nothing but motivation and memories.

* * *

Inoue counted twenty on her fingers. She'd do it this time. She would.

Eighteen...nineteen... And—twenty.

No. Okay; maybe in a second. She counted again. Why was it so hard to go in? Fear dug into her bones, keeping her from going any further than the door her fingers brushed against. Inoue Orihime dismissed the fear inside her. After all, she'd just be in there for a moment. Just to see if he was okay.

Her fingers wrapped around the knob, and she slowly opened the door.

She glanced into the room, to the dim light filtering through it, and a pair of sharp navy eyes met with hers. she wondered if her surprise showed as much as the shock that registered in his. She tried to say something, but it came out more of a squeak, and she backed out of the door, tripping on her feet. _He'd be so mad..._

Orihime hurried down the hall.

"Inoue-san? What's wrong?"

She stopped.

"Ah...Inoue-san?"

She moved back to the door. "I'm really sorry. I mean—I didn't know you'd be—"

His voice was almost inaudible from where she stood. "...What are you apologizing for?"

"Ah..." Inoue laced her fingers together and examined them, refusing to look up. "It's just that I wanted to drop in to see if you were okay, but...I didn't mean to bother you. You probably don't want me visiting since I made all this happen, and...I should probably be leaving now." She smiled briefly, but it was lost beneath the curtain of hair that shielded her expression. She saw Ishida-kun's face, though. He looked surprised, and held up a hand to stop her as she prepared to leave again.

"Inoue-san. What happened...it was my fault. I don't understand why you think you caused any of it. If that's what's bothering you, and...ah...if—if you want to, you can come in." Without his glasses to shield his eyes, she could see a tinge of nervousness in them.

Inoue nodded and entered, walking slowly to a seat beside the bed. It might have just been her, but it seemed awful awkward. Both of them sort of glanced around as if trying to find words in the air around them.

Inoue broke the silence. "I'm sorry I couldn't help. I...it was really horrible. You were bleeding, and I couldn't do anything. I tried to find help but then I got to the hospital and I couldn't. I couldn't do anything. So—if you—if you don't want me here..."

Ishida stopped her harshly. "Look. Inoue-san, you could have left me completely, and you didn't. It was my choice to protect you, my choice to tell you to run. Don't say you're not strong, because you're one of the strongest people I know. Inoue-san...strength isn't always shown in battle."

"But—"

"Apologies are useless," Ishida said, sitting upright, "because you did nothing to apologize for. I won't hear any more of it. I would like to ask one thing of you, though. Stop looking at your feet like that, and...ah..._Please..._look at me when you talk." He smiled a bit self-consciously, and Orihime's eyes widened.

After a moment, she returned the smile. "I'm glad you're okay."

For a while since everything had happened, it had been a lot harder to smile. There was always something to feel happy about, whether it was the sky with its fluffy clouds or the pretty colors on candies, or even the silly faces people made when you poked them and said hello, but they felt wrong somehow. She had smiled anyway, just like she always did, but even to her, it felt tight...fake.

But it sort of felt better now. "Oh!" Orihime dug into her pocket. "Before Kurosaki-kun left, he gave me these. They're yours. A bit scratched up, but..." She held her hand out, bearing Ishida's glasses. He took them silently.

"Before he...left? To where?"

"Oh...to Soul Society. They...he and Kuchiki-san...were called back."

Ishida nodded. The slightest bit of caution crept into his voice. "And you didn't go with them?"

Orihime shrugged. "I wasn't asked, and..." She absently twisted a lock of the hair that was no longer pinned back with her flower clips. "I wouldn't be much help anyway."

Ishida put his glasses on rather quickly. "I'm sorry. I forgot. Is there any way to mend them?"

"Yeah...there was this one man who was sort of like me. He helped me once. Maybe..."

Ishida smiled as she twisted her hands in her lap. "You want to help, don't you?"

She nodded.

"Well, then. I have a proposition for you, Inoue-san. How about you start at mending those, and...ah...I'll work at getting myself mended, and then we can both go help."

Her eyes widened. "But your promise—"

Ishida looked down solemnly. "I've made my choice. So...how about it?"

Inoue nodded once, firmly, and got to her feet. If anything, Ishida was glad that she didn't seem so tense anymore.

"Good luck," he whispered as she skipped out.

"'Bye, Ishida-kun!" she called. "See you soon! Good luck at getting better real fast!"

He couldn't help smiling at that.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Well, that's that. Starting to show a bit of IshiHime here, mostly on Ishida's side, but Orihime's warming up slowly. I was on the Bleach Forums and a group was talking about IshiHime and how they didn't just want Ishida to be Orihime's "second choice" that she fell back upon when/if the IchiRuki relationship worked out. I'm taking a while to write this because I don't want that, either. I want their relationship to be built on its own merits. Wishful thinking? Anyway, **please review**! I'd love to hear any readers' thoughts on how I'm doing with the development of the relationship so far.


	7. Step Into the Fire

**Step Into the Fire**

**Disclaimer/Notes:** I was reading a story, and as I did, I became increasingly aware of one fact. _The story was unfinished._ It had not been updated in _years_. Not a good feeling. Please know I will never do that to my readers, as long as I'm breathing. A lot of things have been going on with my family. A major ice storm felled trees and knocked out our electric, and our kitchen is undergoing major renovations. So, alas, I **live!** Sorry about the length of this one. It's pretty big! It's the end of the beginning and the beginning of the end. In SS, there's going to be _much_ more IshiHime and IchiRuki action, and the story will pick up a lot, too. Thanks everyone, for your patience...

**

* * *

**

Sunset washed over the fading sky of a very, very long day. Ishida Ryuuken pressed cold fingertips to his closed eyes and sighed. Several daunting hours lay ahead before he could even think of rest. On the night he'd found Uryuu, he'd been looking forward to sleep after a long day, and he hadn't rested for a moment since then. He was coming up on forty-eight hours without sleep, and his body clearly told him it didn't like the arrangement.

His door opened without so much as a knock, and Ryuuken scowled.

He thought he had ingrained such a simple courtesy into his employee's heads. Of course, he wouldn't have been surprised if it had actually been an employee.

It wasn't, though.

His son stood in the doorway, leaning a bit too much onto the doorknob his hands gripped for support.

Any physician would have been appalled. Ryuuken narrowed his gaze on the figure in front of him. "You know as well as I do that moving at all in your condition is severely indavisable. Your wounds have been sutured, but if you mess around too much I have no doubt that you'll tear them open again. And did you think about infection?"

But they both knew that something like this would happen. It was about now that Ryuuken found himself cursing the Quincy techniques all over again.

They were all just a bunch of masochists brainwashed by some twisted perception of chivalry, as far as he was concerned. To save the world was impossible. Any sensible person would focus his concentration on himself and on his family only.

Unfortunately, Uryuu did not tend to be sensible.

"Where do you think you're going? Those techniques may help you move, but when you bleed to death, it will make very little difference."

"I'm going to Soul Society."

Ryuuken had not expected an answer. He looked up abruptly, flinching. "Since when have you cared about their wars?"

"Since they ceased being Shinigami and became my friends," Uryuu said softly.

Ryuuken chuckled. "Your mother," he whispered. "Whenever you get that expression on your face, you look just like her. She's been gone for years, so long that you didn't even know her, but her ideals and her stubbornness...they're all mirrored in you."

Uryuu opened his mouth to reply, but quickly closed it again.

Ryuuken spoke wryly. "And do you know the worst thing about a mirror, Uryuu?" His son did not reply. Ryuuken continued. "It's that the reflection shares the fate of the one from whom the image originated. Death, Uryuu. That is the fate of her reflection. And the worst thing of all is that she died in defense of someone she didn't even know."

His son still said nothing.

"Why did you bother coming here?"

Ishida bit his lip and turned away. "To tell you I'd be leaving."

"Can I take this as confirmation that you've chosen to forfeit your word?"

Uryuu shook his head. "No. I'm not fighting for them. It's for someone else."

As the door slipped shut silently behind him, Ryuuken smiled. It was about time Uryuu realized there were things more important than that damned Quincy pride.

* * *

Stepping out silently with his ducked head, Ishida didn't notice the woman outside of the door until it was too late. He tried indifference but couldn't hold it very well as she collided with him and busily rushed to pick up a handful of things she'd dropped. A steaming cup was gripped in her hand, and she grinned at him, murmuring that she was grateful its contents had remained reasonably stationary in this little encounter.

Ishida blushed and knelt very gingerly to help the large woman pick up her things. "I'm sorry," he said. "I was in a bit of a hurry."

She smiled and straightened as he stood, awkwardly returning a few of her fallen gadgets. "Uryuu, right? It's been a long time since I've seen you! You were very tiny, you know, the last time I saw you. You probably don't remember, but I picked you up from school one day a very long time ago, and brought you here. We played in your father's office."

"You're right," Ishida said. "I don't remember. I'm very sorry. If you would excuse me..."

The woman looked at him, a motherly sorrow in her eyes. "I heard him talking to you in there. I must apologize, but the walls are quite thin. I can't say I understand it all, but I heard him talking about..._her._"

Suddenly the generous space between himself and the woman seemed far too little. Suffocating. "I'd better be going..."

"You don't remember her at all, do you? Your mother? That day was when she died."

Pushing up his glasses wouldn't hide anything at this point. Ishida just closed his eyes. "I don't remember her at all."

He'd asked, when he had gotten older and realized he didn't have a mommy like the other children. The answer was always the same. _"She is gone. The past is unimportant, Uryuu. Return to your studies."_

He'd done just that, telling himself that none of it mattered.

The woman looked at him, her mind registering the effects of the years on him. "You've changed an awful lot. You're not the same little boy who had me try on his glasses; you're a lot more like your father was back then."

Wow. Embarrassing childhood memories _and_ being accused of imitating the one he most tried to differentiate himself from, all in one sentence. "Back then?" he asked grudgingly, curiosity stealing his restraint.

"He was still a lot more logical, as he is now, but it was different. More real. One day...she was brought in. Your mother, I mean. Sada. A beautiful woman, she was. Always had a smile, always a kind word. She always talked to us on her way up to see Ishida-sensei. She was a protector, I suppose. That's the best way to describe it. She wanted to make things better for everyone. Children's smiles kept her working day after day. Compassion...I saw its truest incarnation in your mother's heart." The woman's eyes were on him, he could tell, even with his eyes closed.

He hoped she'd finished, but she continued. "Then she got into...some kind of fight. I don't know with what or with whom—I've never seen those kind of wounds. They were horrible. It was hopeless, really, to bring her in. The paramedics knew her...the nurses knew her...and your father was working that day. By the time she got in, she was unconscious. Blood loss had stolen everything but her heartbeat, really. She died before we could even bring her up to surgery. Her injuries were too complicated to deal with here. We'd never seen them before, and as far as I thought, I'd never, ever see something as horrible as that again. And I didn't. Not until you were brought in." She stopped, waiting until she coaxed his eyes open. "I know your father very well after all this time, and as much as he hides, you want to know what I saw when he brought you in?"

_No, no, no... _"What?"

"Fear. Regret. Resignation. To him, it was the same thing over again. You lived, though. And right now you're walking when we wouldn't advise even sitting up for a week. _Her_ compassion lives on in you, and always will. Her stubbornness, too. For his sake...please, don't let it end up like she did. In his own way, he loves you more than the world. A part of him went with her when she died, but what's left is here because _you_ are. Everything will be gone if anything happens to you...so...whatever it is you're doing, please be careful."

Ishida opened his mouth to speak but failed spectacularly. "I won't," he said at last. "But if anything happens, please tell him this. I don't have any regrets about what I'm doing."

The woman's eyes searched his, and finally she nodded. Impulsively, she wrapped her arms around him. He winced.

"Ah...goodbye."

She nodded. "See you soon. I really do want to talk to you again. You seem to have grown into a kind and handsome boy." She winked.

Ishida blushed.

"Well, this tea is getting horribly cold. I'd better be going."

Wordlessly, he nodded.

* * *

He followed her reiatsu.

If he had to ascribe a scent to it, he'd say it was like flowers. Something tropical and beautiful and altogether _different_, unlike the stiff, bitter scent of the reiatsu of shinigami. Hers was special, unique to her. He sensed many other things where he finally found her, a very strange mixture of spiritual pressure, and he could only guess what the people inside were like.

As long as she was safe.

Of course, some kind of barrier kept him from approaching. He would hardly have noticed its presence if it wasn't for the fact that Inoue was inside of the seemingly normal building. He supposed if he wasn't able to sense spiritual pressure, he wouldn't have been aware of the messy structure.

How in the world did she get involved with characters like this?

_Come on..._

He paced for a little while, but movement was alltogether too painful, and he decided he'd better not push it. To say that his recent wanderings had been anything approaching easy would have been a dreadful lie. Walking for any length of time was hell. But he was here now. Sighing, he leaned against a telephone pole.

This was stupid. He couldn't go in. How long would he wait out here before she realized he'd arrived? The smart thing would be to call to her.

But...

He couldn't. Standing outside and calling her name? No. Give him a batch of hollows to fight, but he wasn't going to call her out. His cheeks flushed at the thought.

_Wow, Ishida...you're quite pathetic. Unwilling even to speak to her? You're going to get nowhere, my friend. Nowhere at all, at this rate._

And now his mind was making fun of him.

But it was true. Sighing, he glanced into the windows of the building, but they were darkened. He could see nothing. "Ah..." He bit his lip, feeling stupid. "Inoue-san?"

Hardly a whisper. She wouldn't hear him at all. "I—Inoue-san!"

He felt like a spurned highschooler on his first date.

The feeling did nothing to help his dangerously low self-confidence.

Her spiritual energy suddenly intensified, and he snapped up so fast he was sure he'd felt some of the careful sutures tear. Gritting his teeth, he looked up. A garage-door-like exit opened, and Orihime walked out slowly, cluelessly, arms clasped behind her back. Her hair had looked stunning when it had fallen freely, but she seemed very happy to have the clips pulling it back again. She saw him and grinned hugely, waving a hand and pointing to her clips.

He smiled back and nodded, but his expression soon melted from his face.

Something _gargantuan _was behind her. A shadowed figure, tall and wide in ways that shouldn't have been anatomically possible, stepped out as she did, and Ishida was sure seismographs across the world picked up the miniature earthquakes his steps caused.

Really, he'd thought himself socially adept enough to smile through any situation, but before he knew it, he was having to force a slack jaw closed. The man nodded to Orihime, and she put her hands to his barrier.

"Come on, Ishida-kun! You can walk through now!"

He forced himself forward until he stepped in beside her, but his attention was still riveted on the huge, fat..._pink-haired_...man.

The huge man caught Ishida's gaze on him. He smiled, as if used to gaping jaws and speechlessness. Orihime stood beside him, grinning as if having strange people as wide as they were tall escorting her was an everyday event. Her strange escort's eyes traveled from Ishida's shock to Orihime's oblivious grin, and he extended a hand. "Welcome. I am Ushouda Hachigen. If you like, you may call me Hacchi."

"Ah...Hacchi-san...h—hello." Ishida held out a hand to meet the large one extended, and his entire hand was enveloped in a vigorous shake. "I'm...ah...Ishida. Ishida Uryuu."

Once Hacchi released his hand, Ishida immediately withdrew it to his side, pressing his fingers to the stitched wounds gingerly. He closed his eyes for several moments and tried to shake a feeling of dizziness away.

The big man looked him over carefully. "Why don't we all take a seat, then?"

The words were addressed particularly at Ishida.

Grateful, he lowered himself to the ground and covered up his grimace with a smile.

Hacchi carelessly plopped down onto the ground, and Orihime followed suit, falling down cross-legged.

"So, Uryuu-kun," Hacchi said, "How is it that you know Orihime-san?" His smile was wide and almost fatherly, his expression intent.

"Oh...ah...me? I'm—just..." He felt his face growing warm. "I'm a f—friend. From school."

Hacchi nodded. "To locate this place...there are some quite interesting children in this city. So you're like Orihime-san, then?"

Ishida didn't quite know how to answer that, and was saved by Orihime herself. "Look!" she said, pointing to the silver clips pinning her honey-colored hair back. The turquoise petals were all perfectly formed. "Hacchi-san helped me fix them! He let me work a bit, this time, too. I'm learning, Ishida-kun! I'm getting stronger!"

He smiled gently. She was already the strongest person he knew. "That's good, Inoue-san," he said, his voice more revealing than he would have liked. He coughed lightly, unable to hold back a flinch as pain sliced through him at the movement. Inoue hadn't noticed, and continued to talk.

Ishida continued to nod. It was nice to see her like this...happy. Carefree.

"I'm learning a lot, Ishida-kun! An awful lot! It really helps. Can we come back here when we return from Soul Society, you think?" Her gaze went first to Ishida, and then, childishly pleading, to Hacchi, who nodded.

"Of course! Come back whenever you like."

"Good! Oh, thank you so much! That's really wonderful. You see, I want to stay longer so I can learn more, but we have to go to help Kurosaki-kun, so I'll come back soon, okay?" Not waiting for another reply, she barreled onward, talking about everything from the weather to the funny little compound these people had under the earth. Kind of like Urahara-san's, she explained, with trees and such.

The air in here seemed thin. Ishida smiled at her enthusiasm and politely turned his head as he coughed again. It hurt horribly, and he thought dryly that he'd have to remind himself that coughing was not to go on his to-do list next time he got stabbed. He cleared his throat, but the coughing only got worse, more forceful, more painful, as his body stubbornly refused to take in a good breath. He wrapped his free arm around his stomach, clenching his fist and inwardly _cursing_ his bad timing.

When he was finally able to pull his hand away from his mouth, he saw what he feared. Bright red streaks of blood covered his palm. He clenched it into a fist and hid it in his lap, leaning over, trying to catch his breath.

Inoue was uncharacteristically silent, yet still oblivious. "Are you okay, Ishida-kun?"

He tried to turn away, absently running a finger over his lips, but she saw the blood. "Oh..." she said, paling.

_Damn. _How embarrassing was this? He hurriedly wiped the blood away, muttering half-heartedly, "I guess...I was in a bit of a hurry coming here. Stupid of me. Excuse me, please..."

He realized it was rather idiotic to walk away in his condition, but idiocy seemed to have become a habit since he'd met her.

Oh yes. Definitely not smart to stand. His body told him so in numerous ways when he tried, the most noticeable of which was that it refused to support him once he'd finally gotten upright. Lightheadedness was the least of it, but it didn't help that all his mental faculties were devoted to finding which way was up.

He supposed gratefulness should have been in order when Hacchi caught him before he hit the ground, but with Orihime staring, wide-eyed, in his direction, all he could think was how horribly embarrassing this all was.

Hacchi laid him onto the ground. "Orihime-san, is this why you came here?"

Without words, she scooted forward. "Don't you worry, Ishida-kun," she said, looking down at him. "I'm not too bad at this sort of thing."

He saw and felt a warm glow somewhere in between him and her reassuring smile, and he let himself drift into blackness.

* * *

When his eyes opened, his first thought was, _Any normal person who saw such a thing would have a nervous breakdown._

But then, there weren't many normal people in Karakura.

Hacchi sat on the ground, taking up several feet of space, and Orihime sat in front of him, a worried look on her face.

And she was talking to her fairies. They all moved around her as she conversed thoughtfully.

Yeah, most onlookers would have to be institutionalized.

One of the fairies, the red and black one—Tsubaki, if Ishida wasn't mistaken, saw as he tried to rise. Almost instinctively, he slowed out of caution for the wounds, but they were completely gone.

"Oh look," Tsubaki said dryly, voice awfully bold for one so small, "it's alive, at last."

Ishida frowned. The last thing he needed right now was to be insulted by her _hairclips_.

"You're awake! I'm so glad! How do you feel? Does anything hurt?"

_Doubting her abilities._

"Nothing," he said. "You did perfectly. Thank you."

She grinned, and nodded happily to her fairies. They returned to the clips. Ishida had seen it a few times, but he never got tired of watching. It was one of the strangest things he'd ever seen, and that was saying a lot.

Hacchi stood, letting out a huge sigh. "Well, it was very nice to meet you, Uryuu-kun, and wonderful to see you again, Orihime-san. You two should probably get going, though, yes?"

Orihime nodded vigorously. "Yep! I think we're all set now." She got up and dusted off her skirt.

Hacchi caught Ishida's eye, and his gaze said all his voice did not.

"Ah...I'll be a moment, Inoue-san. You go on; I'll catch up soon."

"Okay." She started walking, waving to Hacchi as she exited the barrier with ease.

Once she was gone, Hacchi said, "Am I correct in assuming that she's joining the war in Soul Society?"

"If they'll take us. She wants to help."

Hacchi grunted. "She's not a fighter, that girl."

Ishida thoughtfully looked down at his feet. "Yes. I know that. But...I am. She doesn't have to fight. I'll fight for her."

Hacchi considered him for a moment, then grinned and slapped a meaty hand to Ishida's back. "Take care of her."

Ishida felt a blush rising to his cheeks. "Of course." He inclined his head cursorily to the large man. "I will."

Hacchi let Ishida through the barrier and Ishida ran to catch up with Orihime, who was mindlessly chattering again by the time he caught up with her. They stopped by their houses to get a few small things, and then hurried to Urahara's shop. Dramatic as usual, he tipped his hat to them and greeted the two enthusiastically, as if he'd been waiting.

Creepy.

"How did I know you two would be coming? Want another free trip to Soul Society?"

"Please!" Orihime said. "I want to help over there." Remembering the last time she'd seen him, she quietly murmured, "I _can _help."

Urahara did an abrupt switch from lighthearted enthusiasm to somber in the space of a second. "I know that, Inoue-san. You must understand, my previous actions were only in interest of your safety. Your abilities are quite interesting, and more than a few people would like to use them to their advantage, as you will have learned by now."

Orihime bit her lip. "I understand."

"Well, then, if you're sure about this, I have it ready to go for the two of you."

He led them through the shop, stopping to laughingly ask if they'd like to make any purchases, and then down into the underground area. As they prepared to go, he stopped them.

"Be ready," he said. "Both of you."

"For what?" Orihime asked.

"For anything. Everything. A war zone."

His somber tones sent a cold shudder through both of them.

"The place you'll arrive in may well be under attack. So, if I were you," his hat tipped up and piercing eyes were visible. A dark smile curved his lips. "I would step very carefully."

Orihime grabbed Ishida's hand impulsively, and they stepped through together.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Sorry for ending it there! _(Braces herself for rotten tomatoes_) I guess the following chapters will be where everything really picks up. I hope this wasn't too tedious to read through. I'm having a bit of trouble with the writing stage, so...if **anyone** at all would take time to leave their thoughts, even if only a few words, I'd appreciate it very, very much. Reviews, constructive or otherwise, really help me write! Hehe... (_puppy eyes_) **Please?**

**Note:** The backstory about Ishida's mother is my creation, an attempt at explaining why Ryuuken acts as he does. Hacchi exists in the manga, though, and should show up soon in the anime if he hasn't already, considering they've picked up the manga timeline again. (_inwardly goes "**squee!"**_) As far as the only official image of the vizard/vaizard I've seen portrays...he does have pink hair. And a huge pink mustache. (s_hudder_) Anyway, I promise things will pick up in later chapters!


	8. I Cannot Embrace You

**I Cannot Embrace You**

**Disclaimer/Notes: **(_bows_) Please forgive me for the late update! The time taken actually yielded something, though, since I've gotten almost all of the next chapter done, too. Starting there, I'm going to bring IchiRuki back in a major way. Again, I'm sorry for taking so long! I guess...it's just sort of daunting, realizing that there's so much backstory and so many bits of history I couldn't even hope to know. I keep thinking I'll get something horribly wrong. So if you catch any mistakes, just tell me. Constructive criticism is my friend. Also, a quick note; some of the weapons I mention may be unfamiliar to readers since they don't come in until later in the manga. Don't worry, they're real; I didn't make them up.

* * *

If the first time they'd fallen into the outskirts of Soul Society had been jarring, this time was downright traumatizing. Though Orihime raised her shield in time to catch them before they fell—allowing a decidedly less acrobatic landing than previous ones—the moment they rested safely on a solid surface, a shudder pulsed through the ground, joined shortly by a pillar of fire rising to the sky.

At any other time, Ishida might have been supremely embarassed by the fact that Orihime's hand was still clasped so tightly in his, but there was no way he was going to let go of her right now. He lifted himself slowly to his knees and looked around.

Not even Urahara's grim warning could have prepared him for something like this. The twilight sky blazed a flickering orange-red with flames and sunset. Smoke curled into the sky, obscuring the fiery colors. The small huts, homes and shops of Rukongai, light in color even through the smoke, were contrasted by the huge, lithe-looking silhouettes that walked among them.

Hollows.

They were outside the gates of Seireitei. Dryly, Ishida wondered if that stupid sandal-hat guy was blind behind the striped hat. He supposed now was not the time to question the eccentric shopkeeper's choice of entry—or his sanity—but he couldn't help being just a little incredulous that a man of such talent could only get them right outside of their goal.

He caught his mind before it strayed any further.

It was what Urahara could do for them on short notice.

_Just be grateful and get your butt moving before you get killed._

"Orihime," he said. She blinked a few times as he extended his other hand to help her up. Her eyes wandered over the stuffy sky, and she gripped his hand tighter as a distant explosion made the ground shiver. "No fireworks this time...we'll have to find another way in. I don't suppose they're expecting us. Not in a situation like this." He pulled her to her feet.

For those inside the gates of Seireitei, this situation was probably little more than a distraction—a nuisance. Anyone in the closest districts of Rukongai was out of luck, though. _They_ were out of luck. Ishida knew that Hollows showed up in Soul Society, too, but he'd been under the impression that the occurrence was few and far between. Despite the fact that they lacked any sort of human compassion, logic dictated that searching for souls on this side would more than likely earn them a zanpakutou to the head for their troubles.

Such a direct and concentrated attack could only be intentional.

Aizen.

It wasn't time to think about that, though. As much as Ishida advocated thinking, there was certainly a time to concentrate simply on surviving. "Orihime, stay beside me, okay? I swear I won't let anything happen to you, but we have to move quickly."

His voice sounded confident, yet he was anything but. Move quickly? Good enough, but move where? The deathstone that comprised the high walls of Seireitei blocked any sort of spiritual attack. Hacking at it with a spoon wouldn't get them anywhere fast, either. Ishida dejectedly realized they didn't have a spoon. No Shiba Kuukaku, either, to get them over the wall. The four gates?

Worth a shot.

Orihime stood beside him, and he somehow took comfort in her closeness. "We're going to skirt the walls until we find one of the gates. That'll give us a place to start. Okay?"

She nodded mutely, her face illuminated by the light of the red sky.

He was looking back at her when the expression on her face changed. Her eyes widened in fear and she shook her head, stepping closer even though she seemed farther away. He looked where her eyes were, and he watched as a young shinigami crumpled the the ground in a pool of blood, the victim of a hollow's attack. The boy couldn't even have been a seated officer. To send inexperienced fighters out to deal with an event like this was suicide. These hollows had been modified by Aizen.

"We've got to help him, Ishida-kun!"

"You can't save everyone, Orihime!" His immediate reaction was to say no. If it was up to him, he would have picked her up and dragged her away. Out in the open like this, there was no way to cover her, but at the same time, he knew how she felt. He knew it would be wrong to stop her, no matter how much he'd hate himself if anything happened.

She looked at him and the slightest smile lit her features. Held in her gaze, he could almost forget that they stood in the center of a warzone. "I'm scared, too," she said. "But don't worry, I know we'll be safe."

It was said so lightly, so offhandedly. How could she so easily trust him with her life? Biting his lip, Ishida glanced at the fallen shinigami. He nodded.

The two ran across the dusty ground and knelt beside the injured boy. Up close, he looked even younger, dark hair unkempt across a face creased in pain and fear. His black robes showed the spreading stain of blood, tattered and torn over a gaping wound in his chest. The dark liquid wet the ground beneath him, blood bubbling from the wound with each labored breath.

Orihime looked at Ishida and nodded, gently pulling her hand from his. _You can let go. It'll be okay, _her eyes said. She cast him a fleeting grin and then turned her gentle gaze to the young Shinigami. "Don't be scared. I'm here to help you. This won't hurt a bit, okay?"

The boy's brown eyes flickered open as Orihime wordlessly called her Shun Shun Rikka forth, Ayame and Shun'ou creating a shield over the young man. He examined her face speechlessly, as if afraid to believe he was alive.

"It's okay to close your eyes," she told him. "You don't have to worry about anything."

"Are you...an angel?"

Orihime laughed, warm golden hair accentuated by light of the same color. "You're so _silly!_ Nope, I'm just Orihime. But thank you...I've never been called an angel before."

Ishida thought he'd have to rectify that.

A hollow's cry seared the calm air. Hating the feeling of apprehension that washed over him at the sound, Ishida drew his bow. The hollow was over them in a moment, bathing the three in a shadow blacker than night, glaring down with a broken mask and eyes that shone deep scarlet. Ishida released an arrow at the beast's head, and then another to make sure it fell backwards, away from them.

Several other deep black silhouettes noticed the disturbance, and their cries seemed to freeze the air. "Orihime-san! We have to hurry!"

Too fast. He'd seen their speed, felt their sharp talons. Too many of them...

"He's not healed! I can't, Ishida-kun." Her eyes pleaded for a few more moments.

The shadows converged through the smoke, getting closer. He felt their steps on the ground, heard the inhuman shrieks that said they'd found a target.

Closer.

"The gate," Ishida said urgently, addressing the shinigami. "Can you tell us where it is?"

The shinigami gave Ishida a quick glance, and then came to a decision. "That way. Not far," he gasped. He jerked his head to the right, but his eyes never left the approaching hollows.

Ishida fired, but their numbers didn't seem to be diminishing.

"A few more seconds," Orihime said desperately. "Please...wait."

He wanted to tell her he'd wait as long as she needed, but he couldn't make himself speak.

The hollows were close enough now to feel the foul reiatsu radiating from their black forms—acidic, painful and paralyzing. He released a few more arrows. _Come on...there's no time!_

The shield wavered and dropped. "Done," she said.

Too late. They were too close.

The shinigami scrambled to his feet and drew his zanpakutou.

Ishida looked at Orihime, and at the approaching hollows, then made his own decision. "Hold on," he said.

"Wh—what?"

He was asking himself something very similar, but there was no time to think.

He had six inches and twenty pounds on her.

Picking her up was easy enough.

* * *

In the distance, they could see flames.

Rukia wanted to go to them, to see what was happening—perhaps to help—but she was not assigned to deal with it, and Ichigo would not be with her for much longer, so she could not go. She could only watch. "A scouting mission?" she asked, swinging her feet and searching his eyes. She would be able to tell if he was lying.

He nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Nothing major. Those idiots seem completely averse to giving me any sort of mission I might actually be able to help with. I could do this with my eyes closed."

He stood while she sat, crossing his arms to brace himself as a stiff wind wildly blew their hair about their faces. Hundreds of feet above the chaos below, detached from the disaster, they both looked on for a silent moment.

"Ichigo..." she said, and he had a serious expression, because they both knew she usually called him by his first name—rather than opting for a word like _idiot _or _fool—_when she was serious about something.

Standing precariously on the wall of the Seireitei of Soul Society, hundreds of feet from safe, solid ground and held in by nothing on either side, they were both silent for a moment.

"What is it, Rukia?" he finally asked. His gaze met hers through his shifting orange locks of hair.

Despite his position, she elbowed him—_hard_—in the shin. "You do realize that...if anything happens to you, I'll search you out wherever you may be and kill you again, right?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. I get it."

The wind played with his words before releasing them, barely audible. He shifted and turned slightly away. "I have to get going," he said. "Actually, chances are they'll rip me a new one as it is for some random reason, but I should head out, anyway."

She nodded, staring at the distant flames.

* * *

Though, in all honesty, Ishida had sometimes questioned the sanity of the Quincy in naming their techniques, he couldn't deny the usefulness of them. Hirenkyaku, the Quincy equivalent of shunpou, though not nearly as fast with an extra passenger, was enough to get them away quickly.

Even if he had to pick her up to do it.

Orihime made a surprised squeak, but didn't resist. She reflexively grabbed onto him. Crossing the distance between their current position and a shadowed nook against the wall, Ishida continued along it until he came to one of the monstrous gates. No more than a few seconds had passed, and Orihime looked a bit surprised, as if she didn't know quite what had happened.

Ishida knelt and let her to the ground, where she sat in silence for a moment. His choice had seemed like a good one just a moment ago, but he couldn't help the blush that spread over his face now that they were out of danger. "Ah...I'm very sorry, Inoue-san. I was worried we wouldn't get out quickly enough, and...I thought..." he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry."

Still sitting in the dirt, she paused before speaking, lifting a thoughtful finger to her lips. Suddenly she grinned. "It sounds like you're apologizing for thinking!" Sitting up, Orihime brushed dust from her clothes, and nodded firmly as she stood. "Now, then...let's find a way inside. I'm hungry."

Smiling. She was _smiling_. As if they hadn't just narrowly avoided becoming a tasty treat for nasty modified hollows. As if she hadn't been picked up and unceremoniously dropped on her butt.

And if he was honest about it, it was what he loved about her. He had not lied when he'd said that she was the strongest of all of them. Of course, saying she was the most crazy probably wouldn't have been too far-fetched, either. He sighed and smiled. "Okay, then."

Taking several steps back, he observed the gate. There was no gatekeeper, this time. He wondered if this was another wartime adaptation. Either way, it sent a pretty effective message.

They didn't welcome visitors.

"Oh, yeah?" Ishida murmured under his breath. "And since when is _that_ new?" Seireitei had _never_ really welcomed visitors.

"Hmm, Ishida-kun?" Hands behind her back, Orihime wandered back and forth, brow creasing in a silent question.

"Nothing. It's just...it doesn't look like there's going to be an easy way in."

She nodded firmly. "Think of something crazy, then. 'Cause normal stuff just doesn't seem to work. You know, I wouldn't have thought of...you know, those spirit balls and firework sorta things, but I guess it worked out okay. So...I think crazy things usually work."

He didn't bother to correct her twisted logic.

Stepping forward, he looked at the towering wall. _Think, think, think... _His fingers raked along the cool stone, ending in front of the gate, where they fell back to his side. Sighing heavily, Ishida lowered his head. "I don't see anything, Orihime. The most plausible _crazy _thing I can think of would be climbing up the wall until we find one of those windows. But even then..."

"You'd be struck down before you got close!" This voice was new. Accompanied by the rough taunt, the sound of shifting stone against stone reached his ears. Ishida spun around to see a small exit open in the wall. A group of shinigami filed out. "Who the hell are you?" the new voice demanded, its owner exiting from the shadows with a confident stride. The voice belonged to a short, intimidating man who led the group. The man's reiatsu was heavy—at least at officer level.

"Ishida Uryuu," he replied, and though the words were normal, his tone was acidic, daring the man to try anything. "Quincy," he added. "Now, if you'd excuse us..."

"Ohh!" The man shook his head, knocking greasy mud-colored hair over black eyes. "You're that _weak_ little clan we wiped out a coupla centuries ago, huh? Figures the cowards would still be alive somewhere. Running's one of their best attributes, don'tcha think? It's too bad that a few insects were out while we raided the nest." The man sighed. "The least those fools could do is die, huh? But I suppose they're not even good at that."

The reasonable part of Ishida's mind insisted that such scum was far below him, and that he should ignore the man and use the situation to his advantage. His father would probably have told him something like that. Though phrased in a different way, his grandfather would undoubtedly have given the same advice:_ Don't pick fights where they're not needed. Don't lose your focus, or your temper, little Uryuu. Neither will help in battle_—that's what his grandfather would have said. Unfortunately, both of those potential advisors were of he clan the rough-looking shinigami had so mercilessly put down. Ryuuken didn't hold any special place in Ishidas's heart, and may have even agreed with the shinigami's summary of the Quincy, but Ishida felt his teeth grinding nonetheless.

"I'd ask you to apologize," Ishida said as calmly as he could, "But I don't think the words would sound satisfactory coming out of your filthy mouth, so I'll be going through now." He wondered if the shinigami could see through his cool exterior to the way anger made his hands tremble just a bit.

Even if he didn't, Orihime did. "Uryuu-kun..." she whispered. "I didn't mean crazy like _this _when I said crazy. Don't listen to that man! He'd mean and he's silly and you know all those horrible things he says aren't true anyway!"

Ishida felt his anger recede as quickly as it had shown itself. Nothing like Orihime to help one to reassess one's priorities. "You're right, Inoue-sa—"

But the dirty-mouthed shinigami landed in front of Orihime with a single flash step and perched his zanpakutou under her chin. "Did I say you could interrupt, girl?" She winced as it split the skin in a slender cut, and a single drop of blood spattered to the dust below.

Ishida very quickly lost the calm he had achieved. Drawing the weapon that had previously been sheathed at his side, he pointed it at the shinigami without hesitation. The blade, formed from spirit particles, glinted menacingly, illuminating Ishida's cold features. His hand didn't shake one bit, because he had noticed that the angrier he got, the calmer he felt. In fact, hed never felt as calm as he did now. "Back off or I swear to God I will kill you right now, shinigami."

The blade withdrew, and the man stared at him once more. "That's more like it. I love a good fight."

"With soldiers like you, no wonder Soul Society is going to hell. I've seen better men scrounging in alleyways."

Ishida hated killing, even killing his foes. He understood that injuries were unavoidable, but taking a life had always seemed like something he could never do. In this moment, though, as Orihime's fingers brushed a lengthy cut already brimming with scarlet, he felt like killing this man would not make a dent in his conscience. As usual, another part of him begged to differ, telling him that he'd feel quite differently once he was calm, but he shoved the logic aside, unable to think rationally as Inoue bled behind him. His fingers tightened on the grip of his Seele Schneider.

The shinigami thrust his blade first, and it stopped in a shower of yellow light.

"What the _hell_—"

Ishida lifted his blade defensively, but dropped it when he saw Orihime in front of him. She looked from Ishida to the man in front of her. "Stop it!" she cried. "We're here to help, too! So stop arguing and _listen_. There's a young man out there, and he was badly injured. I healed him, but with all the hollows, I'm not sure if he's still okay. So go and help him already! If you're picking a fight, pick it with them. We're allies. And if we truly don't belong in this place, like you think we don't, then I'm sure we will receive harsh punishment for entering without permission. Now go and help your friend. Those hollows are very, very strong."

Her last words seemed to influence the shinigami most. "Strong, huh? We'll see about that." He examined the shield she had erected between herself and his own weapon. "These guys are child's play. Let's go find a real fight."

With that, they left. Ishida sheathed his blade and bit his lip, not daring to look Orihime in the eye. He anticipated her next words with a wince. The shield slowly dropped, and she looked his way.

The words she spoke were not anywhere near the ones he expected. "Sorry I got hurt! But you shouldn't be worried. It's just a little scratch! See?" She ran her fingers over it, and it was gone. "Nothing to worry about."

He wondered how she found it possible to apologize when he was the one that needed to beg forgiveness.

"Come on, Ishida-kun. Let's go, too. We'll surprise Kurosaki-kun and Kuchiki-san!"

They stepped into the opening and closed it behind them.

* * *

By the time they had entered the gates and wandered a good distance inside, the sky over Seireitei had darkened with night. Only the outer edges showed the blood red glow of disturbance, leaving the city within safe. It seemed unfair that those with power should live in peace while the helpless citizens of Rukongai died. Ishida walked a few steps behind Orihime, hurrying along and trying not to let his grudge against the shinigami rise to the surface.

After all, they, too were stretched thin by this war. They were doing what they could to help calm the disturbance, in a way.

Ishida grimaced. Something like this was just what they needed. Already tense and at odds from the loss of three captains, these small attacks would distract them and only put them more on edge. Aizen knew what he was doing. If Ishida was in the habit of swearing, he would have done so very extensively. Wanting to help over here was all good and fine, but what if there was nothing they could do?

He shook his head to clear those thoughts.

For now, they needed to find somewhere to rest. Orihime's extensive use of her abilities seemed to have tired her. They could officially announce their arrival as soon as she was feeling better. He stepped up close behind her and spoke softly. "We'll stop soon, okay?"

Her voice said it wasn't necessary, but her tired eyes belied those words.

He felt like apologizing again.

"Here," he said. Not too far ahead stood a little hut, darkened and apparently empty. Just in case, though, he entered first. She followed, sitting on the floor and sighing. "Ishida-kun?"

Her face was barely illuminated in the deepening violet twilight. "Hmm?"

She grinned. "I guess I was a _little_ bit tired. I should probably practice more."

He didn't reply.

"Are you okay, Ishida-kun?"

More accurately, he _couldn't_ reply. Cold metal caressed his neck, discouraging speech or movement. Cloth rustled softly, and the dim light revealed shadows that had previously been invisible. So much for officially announcing themselves.

The violent glimmer of several more zanpakutou reflected in the moonlight as they extended toward the two on the floor.

How many times could a person meet with the business end of a blade in a single hour?

"Ah...we come in peace?" Ishida said.

The blades drew mercilessly closer.

Damn his stupid sense of humor.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I planned on putting a lot more of Ichigo and Rukia in here, but I swear, starting next chapter, they'll be back, and IchiRuki will start playing a **very major** role that will last until the end of this story. Anyway, I hope this was okay! I've written almost all of the next chapter, and even though the last scene is giving me trouble, I hope to have it up soon. Anyway, construcive crit is my friend! Any thoughts at all would be very much appreciated. The thoughts that readers provide are the things that keep me going, letting me know what I'm doing right, and, more often, what I am doing horribly wrong. **_Please _Review?**


	9. Until Forever's End

**Until Forever's End**

**Disclaimer/Notes:** Wow! Thank you a million times over to the wonderful people who left their comments and criticism last time! You guys are amazingly awesome! (Anyway, a new chapter **_at last_**, in which Orihime forces Ishida to pick flowers, and Byakuya contemplates ways to get rid of Ichigo before being stopped and chatted up by Orihime, leaving him shocked and slightly damaged.) Well...I had to separate the chapter **again**, and wasn't able to get Ichigo and Rukia in like I wanted. The first scene in the next chap is their reunion, though. I just had to settle Ishida and Orihime in (hehe, in a single apartment. -_gasp_-) See how horrible I am? Well, anyway, I had fun with this. If I said that I enjoy embarrassing Ishida and generally putting him through **hell**, would anyone think I was messed up?

* * *

"We don't want to hurt you."

Ishida swallowed very slowly, because he was sure that any movement would send the blade in places he most certainly didn't want it to be. "Really?" he murmured dryly. "I...couldn't tell."

The blade's wielder, as if nervous, jutted the shining instrument just a bit farther forward, so that its sharpened tip became disturbingly intimate with Ishida's larynx. "Identify yourself!"

"Can't." Ishida very lightly touched the zanpakutou's tip and moved it from his neck. "If I talk, this thing's going to slit my throat."

The shinigami drew his blade back marginally. "Who are you?" he repeated.

Ishida glanced around, catching the silhouettes of many more shinigami. A good number didn't seem to have their blades at all, though most of them had pouches slung over their shoulders. "Ishida Uryuu. And I'm supposing you are the fourth division?"

As far as his knowledge of the shinigami divisions went, the fourth—largely a medically-inclined division—seemed to be the most lax in combat. Considering that a good portion of this group didn't even seem to be carrying their weapons, Ishida came to the most obvious conclusion. "The pouches. Is seems like you're the only guys that carry them. Like I said, we're not here as enemies. We're friends of Kurosaki—"

"Ichigo," Orihime broke in, chattering happily. "Kurosaki Ichigo-kun and Kuchiki-san. We came to surprise them!"

"How did you get here?" one shinigami asked roughly.

Orihime was about to tell them. Ishida figured it _wasn't_ best to explain how an exiled ex-captain had sent them through in a most likely highly illegal way, so he interrupted.

"It doesn't matter. It only matters that we're here. We are carrying weapons, but we don't mean any harm to you. We're from the town that Kurosaki lives in. We, too, don't want Aizen to accomplish his goal."

The shinigami drew his zanpakutou away.

"Ku—Kurosaki-san?" a timid voice spoke up from somewhere in the back. "You know him?"

A skinny, nervous-looking boy stumbled his way through the taller crowd, finally emerging in from of them, staring blankly and blinking big eyes. He wasn't carrying his zanpakutou. Longish black hair fell over his ears, and he smiled weakly, extending his hand. "Yamada Hanatarou! Nice to meet you. I know Kurosaki-san..." At the glares of several of his colleagues, the boy shrank back. "Ah...yeah..."

Ishida took the extended hand. "Nice to meet you, too. And...now that we're all friends, is there any way we could stand up?"

"Of course!" Hanatarou said, nodding. "Yeah. You can..umm...I suppose you can go to our headquarters, huh? Do you know the way?"

Standing to his feet, Ishida gave Orihime a glance. She shook her head. Ishida shrugged. "Not really."

A taller shinigami smirked and pushed Hanatarou forward. "Since you're being so accomodating, Yamada, why don't you take them there? Explain to Unohana-taichou that you picked up a couple of wanderers...see how _that_ goes over."

"Hey! But...wait...I..."

Hanatarou looked at the two of them. "Okay, then. I'll be taking you. Do you mind going through the sewers? It's much quicker that way. And really...it's a good way to avoid people."

* * *

Damp air and dim lighting marked the atmosphere of the tunnels beneath Seireitei. Ishida walked behind Hanatarou, and Orihime followed very closely behind Ishida, tracing the slick walls with her fingers every once in a while. "You know, when I was little, my brother would tell me scary stories about monsters in the sewers. Or was it giant rats? Or ghosts? Maybe both. Maybe a monstrous _rat_ ghost... Have you ever seen any, shinigami-san?"

Hanatarou jumped. "Ah, what?"

Ishida lowered his head and spoke silently. "No, Inoue-san, there aren't any..." He really couldn't say it aloud. Dignity cried against it. "There aren't...any of _those_ in here."

She nodded, skirting a damp patch of concrete. "That's very good, then!" She grinned and wandered along behind them. "Can I call you Hana?" she loudly asked the boy in front. "It's pretty."

"Ah...are you talking to me?" Hanatarou turned around, staring at her nervously from beneath messy strands of hair. He gave a timid smile. "No one really talks to me, but when they do, I'm always 'hey, you!' or 'Yamada, you fool!' though I suppose those aren't very convenient... You can call me whatever you want. I don't mind, really. What's your name? I was behind everyone, so I didn't hear what was being said."

"Inoue Orihime!" she announced. She grabbed Ishida's arm. "And this is Ishida-kun! He sews!"

Ishida would have buried his face in his hands if Orihime wasn't firmly gripping one of them.

"Oh! And you said you knew Kurosaki-kun?" Orihime chattered. "Do you know where he is?"

Hanatarou thought for a moment. "I met him when he was trying to save Kuchiki-san. I haven't seen him very much since he arrived. I've seen him with Kuchiki-san a couple times, and then with the scouting group he's been assigned to. Actually...I think they just left."

"Oh..." Orihime looked thoughtful for a moment. "And Kuchiki-san?"

"Umm... Yes, she's here." The boy stopped in front of a forked tunnel. "This way. At least I think..." After a moment, he turned back and looked at the two for a quick moment, offering a wan smile. "And don't worry, Unohana-taichou isn't as bad as that man made her sound. She's actually quite nice. She's very kind to me, so you don't have to worry."

They exited the tunnels in a darkened corner between a clump of buildings, and Ishida pressed the manhole cover securely down again, allowing Orihime to go ahead of him.

"This way," Hanatarou said.

He led them into a warm building, and then navigated through the throng of people inside it until they all arrived in front of a door. He knocked meekly.

"Yes, what is it?" Came a soft, feminine voice.

"Ah...It's Hanatarou, Unohana-taichou! I'm very sorry to bother you...really I am, but I brought...um...two visitors here. I guess it's sort of my fault, really... the others went on ahead..."

"Come on in, Hanatarou. Take a seat, and bring your guests in."

The inside of her office was adorned with very pale, natural greens and yellows, warmly colored but not distractingly bright. A woman looked toward them with deep navy eyes and silky hair braided around her neck. She radiated patience and kindness, but Ishida got the distinct feeling that she could stand up to most opponents without flinching. Hanatarou bowed and quickly explained the situation as Ishida and Orihime took seats. Unohana nodded when he was done, and firmly raised her hand when he began to apologize. "There is no reason for apologies. You did the right thing in bringing them here. Inoue-san, hello. I do remember seeing your unique abilities. Am I correct in my thoughts that you came here to assist us?"

"Yes," Orihime nodded. "I'd like to help fight."

Unohana looked down for a moment, and then looked firmly into Orihime's eyes. "If that's what you want, I'm sure it can be arranged, but there's a job that is much more vital that I have in mind for you. It would be a great favor to us if you accepted."

Orihime stared at the woman in front of her, giving her a wide-eyed blink. "Oh?"

"Yes. I would be honored to give you a temporary position among us at the fourth division, if you would take it. Your abilities are phenominal. To have an asset like you on our side would be immeasurably helpful."

Orihime laughed softly. "That's so silly! I can't do much..."

"Please do not say that, Inoue-san. You seem to be the last to acknowledge the potential of your abilities. Now...I can understand if you refuse, but would you like to take a position here? You would assist in healing injured soldiers. Some of the wounds will be minor, but I'm afraid you may have to see much more serious and even fatal injuries. Many don't have the stomach for that kind of thing."

"I don't mind," Orihime said quietly. "I'd like to help. But...what about Ishida-kun?"

Unohana flinched just the slightest bit, and turned to face him. "It is I who must apologize to you. I could offer you shelter here if you'd like, but..." The woman looked away, a hard edge to her eyes. "As sad as I am to say it, your status as a Quincy will not be well-accepted by those who live here. I wish I could change everyone's minds, but it seems like even to us, the past is not easily forgotten. It is, in fact, your clan who should probably hold the greatest disdain for us, and not the other way around. I am sure I could find you a place in one of the attack squads if you desired. Your abilities seem to be more than sufficient for something like that. But I cannot guarantee that you would not meet trouble. Would you like me to try?"

Ishida looked up after a moment. "Is this division in danger?"

Unohana was silent. "Yes. As we are most prominently a medical division, it's not inconceivable that we would be directly targeted."

Ishida felt a blush rising on his cheeks. "Then...would it be okay if I stayed here? I...want to make sure nothing happens to Inoue-san."

Unohana smiled. "That's a good idea. I apologize on the behalf of my division for anything that may have been said to you, and I gratefully accept your offer. For now, you're free to do what you like. I can find the two of you an apartment to share, but there's not much free space here. It should be acceptably furnished. Thank you for bringing them, Hanatarou. Thank you two again for coming."

Orihime got up and nodded respectfully before exiting. Ishida stayed behind for just a moment. "Inoue is very strong," he said.

"Yes, she is. I've seen her abilities. She'll be taken care of here, don't you worry." Unohana grinned, as if she could see right through him. Ishida blushed.

"Ah," he laughed nervously. "She is quite wonderful, but...just don't let her cook for you, okay?"

Unohana chuckled. "That actually sounds like a serious warning. Thank you for telling me."

* * *

It didn't take long to get settled in. Orihime liked the little apartment she and Ishida had been given, but she couldn't understand why he was always blushing so furiously when she called it their apartment. Didn't bunches of people share apartments? Roommates or something. That's what it was called. Orihime got Uryuu to do some sewing—just a few curtains; the place looked a little lifeless—and had soon made a home. She hadn't seen Kurosaki-kun or Kuchiki-san around.

After the first couple of days, Orihime was called in to the fourth division for the first time. It seemed that an attack had brought in a large amount of casualties.

"Like this, Unohana-san?"

Warm yellow light framed Orihime's face as she looked questioningly in the direction of the serene black-haired captain. The woman smiled softly and nodded. Orihime grinned. "Good! You know, I was actually really worried that I wouldn't be able to help or anything! So I'm really happy. I'll help as much as I can, I promise!"

Unohana nodded. "I understand. The work we do is quite tiring, though. I'm guessing that your own abilities take quite a toll on you as well, so please remember to take a break when you become tired. If that is not possible, please take one of these." Unohana extended her hand and opened it to reveal a small vial filled with white spheres.

"Candy?" Orihime asked.

"No, not candy." The dark-haired woman smiled. "This will help to give you strength and energy."

Nodding, Orihime lowered the shield she had erected over an injured soldier, putting the pills into her pocket. "Thank you, Unohana-san!" She gestured to the peacefully sleeping patient. "This one'll be okay. Is there anything else I can do?"

The fourth division's captain inclined her head slightly. "Yes. Another group of injured soldiers will be brought in very soon. Until then, please rest."

Orihime nodded.

"Once that's done, you may go for the day. I think that using your abilities extensively will be quite exhausting. I see that you want to prove yourself to us, Inoue-san, but you already _have_, so there is no need to overwork yourself. You are a wonderful asset, but only if you are in top shape. Do you understand?"

"Of course! I'm sorry."

Unohana shook her head, then laughed. "No need at all to apologize. Oh...and I thought I should tell you; the boy who arrived with you is waiting outside. He...rather_ stumblingly_ admitted to me that he'd like to walk you home whenever you're done." Unohana's smile widened considerably, brimming with words she didn't speak aloud.

"He walked me here, too, this morning. Ishida-kun is very nice, isn't he?" Orihime asked.

"He is. And I think he really..." Unohana trailed off at Orihime's clueless expression. "Yes," she continued. "He does seem to be a very nice boy."

* * *

Kuchiki Byakuya left his home early, very intentionally ignoring the fact that his sister sat in the highest window of the Kuchiki family estate, staring out as if waiting for someone. He didn't know if she knew that he had prevented her from getting a job as a fighter in Hueco Mundo. He thought she would probably be quite angry if she found out. She would have wanted to fight alongside _that _boy.

It wasn't as if Byakuya did not believe that she was strong. He freely acknowledged that. She was quite talented, enough so that she could have gained a position as an officer even when she was first assigned to a division. It was only that he knew that there were people who were stronger and far less merciful than she was.

And if he really thought about it, he was forced to admit it to himself:

There was no way that he would let her die. Not like Hisana—not at all, and not anytime soon, if he had anything to say about it. He had known how dangerous it was to allow her and Renji to depart to Hueco Mundo in the first place. He had not expected them to get separated as they apparently had. He would not make such a mistake again.

But as he watched, she waited. And it didn't help one bit that he knew exactly who she was waiting for.

Kurosaki. That orange-haired, insubordinate brat over-endowed with frightening amounts of reiatsu who had no more worth than the mud Byakuya scraped off of his shoes. If anything, he would rather that Rukia wait for Abarai Renji, but _no. _It had to be the one man Byakuya would rather die than give her up to, wouldn't it? Rukia had always had a strong spirit, lively and vibrant in ways that contrasted his Hisana's shy, quiet nature.

She dangled her legs out of the window—how many times had he told her it was dangerous to do so?—and stared into the distance absently. If asked, she simply said she needed fresh air. The worst thing about it all? She might have almost believed her pathetic excuse. Both she and that orange-haired clown were in denial.

Byakuya wondered if it would be too far beyond the rules to behead that boy. It was certainly an attractive prospect. He inwardly knew he couldn't, though. Not with the way Rukia looked at the boy. And that made the prospect all the more attractive.

Damn it all.

Though no change of expression could be observed on Byakuya's face, something he made sure of, he couldn't help gritting his teeth and walking with a slightly more violent step.

* * *

"How are you, Inoue-san?" Ishida asked when she walked out. She looked exhausted. Her step was just a bit shaky, her gaze wavering and hazy. She looked like she might fall at any moment.

"I'm okay!" she said, though the enthusiasm was painfully fake. "Just a little bit...tired..." She slipped and stumbled backward.

Ishida grabbed her arm and stood behind her until she was able to stand straight. "We should go to the apartment, Inoue-san. You need rest."

She shook her head. "Just dizzy. Need to sit for an itsy bitsy bit, and I'll be fine." She gave a weak smile, and Ishida suddenly understood why Hanatarou always seemed to have black bags under his eyes. All those people must have had to go through the same thing.

"I took one of the pill thingies like Unohana-san said. It helps a lot, really. I felt much better."

Ishida wondered how much worse it could have been for this to be _better. _He didn't ask, but he felt his teeth grinding together. He _couldn't _ask, because he knew she enjoyed helping, knew that she had finally found a place in doing so. No matter how much he wanted to make sure that nothing happened to her, he couldn't take that away. He could stand behind her, though, and stand beside her, making sure that she had someone to catch her when it got to be too much.

"Ishida-kun?"

She was going to ask him a question. He knew it. The look on her face held the hint of a happy smile, and just a bit of dizziness and nervousness. He couldn't have said no to that face if he had tried.

"Yes?" he said.

"Flowers," she said. "Will you pick flowers with me? I don't know where to find any, but...there was this one soldier who came in, and he was very young. He was nice, too. He said I looked like his sister...but I'm nobody's sister. Anyway, he was very sweet. He'd been injured very very horribly, though, and poison is preventing his wounds from being healed. He's in an awful lot of pain, but he didn't do yucky things to me or touch me or say nasty words like some of the people did, so I want to cheer him up."

Ishida felt a lot of things all at once. The first was absolute rage that anyone would dare to do something disgusting to Inoue. The second was tenderness, towards her and her merciful heart. The third was resignation, because he knew he couldn't refuse. "Of course, Inoue-san."

"You mean it?" She jumped to her feet like she'd just swallowed a rainbow. "Yay! That's really wonderful!" She was beaming.

He sank against the wall, wondering why he was letting her wander around in her condition, and wondering why he was going to pick _flowers, _of all things. "Wonderful," he agreed halfheartedly. "I know of a place. I don't have much to do, so I did a lot of wandering. It's not far. Follow me."

And it really wasn't far, but it was much farther than he would have liked her to walk. He watched her carefully until they arrived at their destination: a thick ring of trees.

Ishida thought they looked like weeping willows, a tree he'd heard about but never seen. Long, tender strands of green hung to the ground in a way that was sorrowful, yet beautiful. Brushing the pale curtains of greenery aside, he stood in their way and invited her forward. "I really never would have found this on purpose. I was sort of wandering...and I got curious...about these trees, you see, and... I sorta tripped and fell inside, and...well..."

She blinked, stepping past him. "Ohh..." Her eyes were wide, and he nervously tried to read her expression. At first it was only confusion he saw in her eyes, but they quickly filled with wonderment and happiness. Ishida figured something like that was fine.

"Do you like it?"

He supposed he was selfish, and a little bit insensitive, too. When he thought about it, he decided that he was also a bit of a liar. Because he was not showing this place to her only for that injured soldier. The reason he'd brought her here was not completely to make that soldier happy, but to make Orihime happy. He'd decided that if it could make her smile, then that would be all the reason he needed. "Do you like it, Inoue-san?" he said slowly, lowering his face and releasing the curtain of leaves to hide his blush.

She smiled and turned around, her face illuminated by the pale light that had sifted through the leaves. In the center of the thick foliage and trees was a small brook. A spattering of flowers bowed over the water.

"Do you like reading, Ishida-kun?"

He started at the change of subject. "Ah...yes, of course."

"Do you read fairy tales?"

He frowned. "Umm...I don't remember. I think...maybe, at one point, someone read them to me, though."

"Well, this is kinda like something in one of those. It's so pretty!" Stepping close to the stream, she slipped a shoe off, sticking her tongue out as if in deep concentration. "Hmm..." She dipped a toe into the water. "Oh! Cold!"

Ishida couldn't help the grin that spread over his face. "Yeah, it's pretty cold. The temperature seems quite a bit lower in here, too. I guess it's the shade."

"Thank you, Ishida-kun! Now..." She slipped her foot into the shoe again. "Would you help me pick flowers?"

"Well...sure." He smiled and bit his lip, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. More than once, he'd cursed his faulty vision, but he was sure that he'd be in a very bad way indeed if he didn't have his glasses. They were very convenient, because whenever he felt nervous, he could always find something to do with them. So, rather than stuttering mindlessly and flapping his mouth like a fish out of water—which he did a lot of anyway around Orihime—he had some nervous habits to keep him busy. He stumbled forward until he was beside her. "What kinds? Of flowers, I mean. What kinds do you want to pick?"

"Bright ones," she said thoughtfully. "Blue flowers are pretty, but they're sad. They're like rainy skies. So maybe yellow and pink and purple and white? What do you think?"

"Oh! Well...um... you know, whatever...whatever you think would be best. I think he'd love anything that you did for him, Inoue-san."

That was right. She'd always be Inoue-san, wouldn't she? It just felt so perfect here, though, the way she talked, and the way he watched her. Like maybe he'd known her since forever and would know her until forever ended. But she loved Kurosaki. He could not allow himself to get close to her, and he could not let himself let her know how he felt. Because then she'd know that the pain she felt looking at Kurosaki was the same pain he felt when looking at her. And knowing that would hurt her more.

Most of the time he thought it would be okay to just watch her, to protect her and be there for her, and be near her. Every once in a while, though, emotion got the better of him and he'd dream about how things could be, if only... If only.

"Are you coming, Ishida-kun?"

If only was only a dream.

He smiled. "Of course."

They sat down in the place where the most sun peeked through, the place where the flowers were thickest, strewn in bright, lively patches of pure white, lavender, powder pink, and all shades of yellow and orange, so full that not a speck of grass could be seen beneath them. She crossed her legs absent-mindedly and began to lift flowers—ever-so-gently—into her hand. "We have to hurry; we should put them in water right away, don't you think, Ishida-kun?"

He nodded, and began picking some pink flowers. As the petal of one flickered slowly to the ground, he watched it.

He pressed the flower into his hand.

"I think I like this," Orihime said. Loosening her grip so that the flowers spread in a fan-shape across her palm, she fell backward, smiling.

Ishida blushed. "You like what?"

"I don't really know. Being here, like this. It's different, you know? It makes me forget all the things I can't do, and all the things I'm afraid to do, and it makes me want to sit here and pick flowers like this forever."

Even if he'd wanted to say something, his mouth wouldn't have let him speak.

"I think you must be lucky or something!" she said, smiling toward the sky as sunlight rippled over her features. "Whenever I'm around you I think I want to do something crazy."

"Lucky?" He spoke because he knew that if he didn't, he'd be blushing and stuttering like mad. "I hardly think that's true. We ran into a batch of hollows seconds after we arrived—"

"And we got away," she replied, laughingly fanning the flowers above her.

"—Then we almost got speared by those shinigami at the gate—"

"But we ended up getting in, right?"

"—Then we got poked and prodded with a billion zanpakutou..."

"But they were the fourth division! And I got a job! So see? It's like sort-of-bad-very-good luck! It's a lot of fun."

She looked at the flowers in her hand and slowly sat upright, smoothing the skirt she wore. "Well, I think this will be enough." She hesitated for a moment, but then stood. "I guess we have to go. You think we might be able to come back sometime?"

"Of course," he said softly. He again parted the leafy strands and let her walk through. The sunlight seemed bright at first, so he closed his eyes. Orihime's vision must have adjusted before his did, because in only moments, he heard her yelling, "Kuchiki-taichou!"

Ishida's vision finally adjusted, and he realized that the man she hailed really was the sixth division's captain. The object of her attentions stopped abruptly, head lowered, eyes lifting slowly to view her. As if it took an effort, he turned to face her, his posture just screaming _better-than-you_. "Yes?"

"I thought it was you! The...the _hair noodles_. Really, I was pretty certain."

"Kenseikan," Byakuya murmured coldly.

"Huh?"

"The..." Byakuya pursed his lips, as if he couldn't bring himself to use her wording. Ishida was sure that it was beyond the man to actually _point_ out the accessories on his head, so he fell silent again.

"The...hair noodles," Ishida whispered in her ear. "They're called kenseikan. He seems touchy about it."

"Oh!" Orihime blushed and quickly bowed to the blank-faced man in front of her. "I'm very sorry! Anyway, I was wondering about Kuchiki-san. Is she doing well? I haven't had a chance to see her...I've been a bit busy."

"She is doing well."

"That's wonderful! Tell her I'd like to talk to her, would you please? I'd really like to see how she's doing and all that. I want to tell her a lot of stuff, too."

Byakuya and Ishida stiffened at the same time. _Girl talk. _Very dangerous, indeed.

"So...will you? If you'd rather not, I'd be happy to meet her myself. But...then you'd have to tell me where she's staying... Or maybe you could give me a hint and then we could play a game to see if I could find her? Then if I can't, you could give me another hint, and...and..." she grinned and clapped her hands together. "That would be so fun! Let's play, Kuchiki-taichou, please?" She stepped forward, and Ishida was certain that she was about to take his hand and drag him off somewhere. He found it all very vaguely amusing, while at the same time feeling infinitely sorry for the poor confused Byakuya.

Byakuya withdrew his hand stiffly. "I have business to attend to. I will be speaking to Rukia soon. I will relay your message to her, as well."

"Ooh, she's got lotsa messages, then? She must be popular here. Does she have a lot of admirers, you think?"

"I am merely going to tell her that the one she's been waiting for has returned."

Orihime paused. "Waiting for...? Kurosaki-kun?"

Byakuya did not reply.

Ishida was someone very experienced at hiding his feelings, and as such, he recognized Byakuya's slight withdrawal, saw the tiny hint of anger that tightened his features.

"That fool," the captain of the sixth division murmured. Ah, so he had been talking about Ichigo. "It seems he's been asking after her ever since he arrived back." This time, Byakuya did not bother to hide a scowl. "He does not understand that he is irrelevant."

With that, he walked on.

Orihime stood very still, and Ishida flinched. He supposed the only words she had really heard were, _It seems he's been asking after her..._

If Ishida could have protected her from that pain, he would have, but there was no weapon that could counter the agony words caused.

Stepping closer than he normally would have allowed himself to, he gently touched her shoulder and spoke softly. "We'd better get back. The flowers will wilt if we don't put them in water."

It wasn't the flowers that had wilted right there, though.

* * *

She heard his footsteps.

"Rukia." The voice was as cold as ever, emotionless. What would have been an inquiry became simple acknowledgement.

"Nii-sama?" Rukia turned from her place at the window and gave him a smile. Framed in the shadow behind her was Byakuya, face undisturbed. Except... Rukia looked closer. Was that nervousness she saw on his face? Immediately, her mind jumped to the worst conclusion. "Has something happened to Ichigo?" she demanded, rising quickly to her feet.

Byakuya raised an eyebrow. Nobles did not act with such haste. "Kurosaki has returned from the battlefield...unharmed. Also, two children have arrived. The female...told me to relay to you that she wishes to speak whenever it is convenient."

Rukia pursed her lips thoughtfully. "You mean Inoue-san?"

Byakuya nodded slightly, and sketched a quick farewell before pulling the door closed.

Rukia waited until his footsteps faded to burst out laughing. Her nii-sama as message boy. She'd never get over that. Or, more precisely, she'd _never_ let him live that down. Smiling as she remembered the information he'd given her, Rukia vaulted to her feet and ran through to the next room. Another noble no-no, but she didn't care.

That orange-haired fool was back. Rukia tried to tell herself she wasn't as happy as she really felt, but failed. She covered her grin with a more solemn thought.

If he'd gotten into any trouble, she'd gut him.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Ah, well...this was a relatively calm chapter, but don't worry. It's like how everything's all bubbles, sweetness and rainbows before the whole world goes wacko. I tried to keep it interesting, but I'm afraid it wasn't really kick-butt action or anything. I thought it would be best to give some time to developing the IshiHime relationship. It is actually my first time seriously writing Unohana, Hanatarou, and Byakuya. From what was shown in the anime/manga, Unohana seems to be almost a motherly figure, and yet also strong and no-nonsense. Hanatarou seems hugely lacking in the self-confidence department. I really hope that I stayed true to their characters! And writing Byakuya was really fun...I figured he'd be a bit peeved that the one that caught Rukia's attention is someone he thinks is classless and useless. **Please Review?** Reviews help me so much! (_on her knees_)


	10. No Turning Back

**No Turning Back**

**Disclaimer/Notes:** Sorry about the length! (_dies_) I couldn't split it. But Ichigo and Rukia are here, at last. Anyway, I had lotsa fun with the scene with Ukitake. (Yup, it _is _supposed to be a comparison to a boy asking a girl's father for his daughter's hand in marriage. It's nothing like that at _all_, but I couldn't help the comparison.) Also, (if memory serves), Ukitake is one of the very few people that Ichigo addresses respectfully, with the suffix _-san_. I thought that was cool. Also, the whole flower thing with Ishida and Orihime is supposed to be symbolic, but take it as you will.

* * *

"Ichigo! Ichigo, is that you? Wait up!"

He was dusty. No; he was _bathed_ in dust. The black shinigami uniform seemed a dull brown, the vibrancy of his hair dulled considerably by the presence of it. Once Rukia caught up, she stopped him and irritably made him bend so she could swipe it out of his hair. "How'd you get so filthy?" she demanded, scowling at him. She suppressed the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. _Thank you for staying out of trouble._

"Sandstorm over there," Ichigo explained, oblivious, as she stepped in beside him. "The group I was with did almost nothing, though. Just scouting. No fighting at all. How are we going to win this war on the defensive?" he growled as they began walking, his voice quiet enough that no one would overhear. "We need to be offensive! We can't just wait for victory to fall into our hands, damn it."

He crossed his arms and a decidedly adorable pout adorned his face. "This ain't working," he told her.

Rukia smiled. He sure could whine. But since he looked so cute when he did so, she'd let it slide, _just this once._ "Don't let anyone hear you say that. You'll be reduced to guarding some barren post if your words reach the wrong ears."

"They know what I can do," Ichigo groused. "Why won't they let me do it?"

Stepping seamlessly along with him, Rukia shrugged. "We're not used to accepting the help of outsiders. You're quite lucky to have gained as much trust as you have. Be patient. To be trusted with large tasks, you first must prove your ability to accomplish smaller ones."

"Patience is gonna lose us the war! I'm not going to stand by while Aizen does God knows what to all my friends, Rukia!"

He'd forgotten to be quiet, and several passersby raised their heads at his outburst. Rukia grabbed his arm and pulled him along, slowing to a walk only when out of earshot. She spoke to him in an intense whisper. "Fool. Reign in your anger and you'd see that you don't need to preach to me. I know how you feel. I feel the _same_ way you do."

He paused for a moment, the continued in a whisper. "Next time, I'm going my own way. I'm going to stop Aizen, Rukia."

"_What?_" Everything inside of her screamed against something like what he proposed. Was he strong enough?

He'd bested many of Soul Society's captains through battle, but then Aizen had kicked them away like they were flies—a mere pestilence. Ichigo's proposal could have a disastrous outcome. But he was right. Gathering information and fighting small battles against the hordes of Arrancar at Aizen's disposal was all fine and dandy, but when it came right down to it, they didn't know exactly what Aizen's plans were.

Things would only get worse. An immediate strike might be the only choice.

"If you're going, then I'm coming with you," she said, and immediately she wished she could shove the words back in her mouth. Every bit of training she'd ever received burned in her mind. Rules were made to be followed! By following rules, lives were saved.

But there was no taking her words back. Not now.

"That's the stupidest thing you've ever said! You'd be absolutely insane to come along."

Despite her height, she stood up to him, angrily poking his chest with each emphasized word. "And _you _would be _utterly _insane to try to go by _yourself!_ So shut your stupid mouth and keep walking. I can hold my own, Ichigo, and there's no way in hell I'm gonna let you do some crazy stunt by yourself. I'll be there, should anything go wrong."

He looked into her eyes, and she steeled them to whatever probing he might do, telling him with her unwavering gaze that she'd follow him through while clinging onto the clothes on his back if need be, but she would not back down.

"Okay, then. Wait here. There's...something important I have to do."

* * *

Ishida could have done without the little distraction.

Inoue could have, too. She could have done without it even more than he. But then, Kurosaki seemed to have this horrible habit of showing up where you least expected him. Or maybe it was Ishida's bad habit of showing up in places that were just downright _not good _for all parties involved. That was a possibility, too.

Flowers in hand, Inoue Orihime stopped abrubtly upon seeing what could only have been a flash of a distant silhouette. Of course, she could probably have recognized _him _anywhere. "Ishida-kun, it's them! Kuchiki-san, and..."

That look. He saw that look on her face, the hopelessly smitten one that seemed to make her more sad than happy. "And...Kurosaki-kun," Orihime continued, viewing the two shinigami over the small, vine-covered fence that served as a separator between the marketplace and the residential area.

They couldn't hear any of the words spoken, only soft tones and the occasional heated outburst. Ishida didn't bother looking at them, instead choosing to watch Orihime. "We should go, Inoue-san. The flowers..."

She said nothing—nothing at all, and just watched, so he watched her, too. When the pain in her eyes made him look away, he watched Kurosaki and Kuchiki-san. When he did, he saw exactly what Orihime was seeing. He saw the intensity in their eyes, saw the way she stood up to him. He saw the way they acted around each other, and the little things their bodies did, the little things the tones of their voices said, things unspoken, but that were painfully obvious all the same. He saw their fingers brush, though they probably hadn't even noticed it. They were very ignorant that way.

Orihime noticed everything as if this was the first time she was seeing it. When Ichigo whispered something to Rukia and stood to go, glancing back at the black-haired shinigami once—twice, Orihime smiled. She smiled even though Ishida saw the tears in her eyes.

"You know...Kuchiki-san is my friend. She is so wonderful and sweet and kind..."

And that was all she said.

Ishida was not really one for melodrama—in fact, he tried to avoid it, since he was no good at dealing with it—but he could have sworn that if the wind and the calls of laughter that carried on it weren't so loud, he could have heard her breaking to pieces right in front of him. She covered it like she always did, with a smile. He would have given anything to hold her until she stopped looking so broken, but that wasn't what she needed right now.

_I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Inoue-san._

So he said it in his mind, over and over again, as they walked a path past flowers and trees whose colors seemed to have melted away.

* * *

When they arrived, the door of the little apartment creaked open lazily, deafening in the utter silence around them. The laughter had faded a while ago, as if part of another place, and the wind had died to nothing.

Ishida couldn't help thinking that maybe this was the first time Orihime had really _seen _it...the way those two looked at each other, talked to each other. She'd seen it before, so many times, and sometimes he watched her face when she did. He'd never seen the sadness he saw today.

Ishida stood close behind her as she walked inside. She spoke no words, but the smile remained on her face. It grew from mock-oblivious to bitter and sad as soon as the door closed. She was bitter at herself. Ishida followed silently as she sat down next to the only chair in the sparse living room, the spot with a small, dusty window to the outside.

Silence defined everything until her tones shattered it, broken and sad, self-deprecating. She spoke as if the words would burn her soul if she didn't speak them aloud. She spoke as if speaking words that had lingered on her tongue for ages, and tears slid slowly down her cheeks. Looking desperately forward but seeing nothing, she spoke.

"I guess I'm silly, aren't I?" She laughed softly. "Things like fairy tales will never happen. Ever. Once upon a times and princesses and knights and things like that...they're only in books. And sometimes they end, and you wish you could go back and maybe change just a little something to make it end differently. But then you'd be taking away someone else's happy ending, right? Because even if you don't think it's happy, it's _someone's _happy ending. So..." She rubbed quickly at her eyes and smiled brightly. "See? It's just like Sora told me when I was little. I ramble, I really do. I'm sorry. I don't make a bit of sense, do I? The flowers are dying..."

But she had made perfect sense to him.

"I'll find some water and a vase, Inoue-san," he whispered, stepping past the window. The sunlight shone through, dimmed by the blinds, and filled the room only with empty gray light. He walked into the kitchen of the little home and pulled one of the cups from the cupboard, filling it with water. He was about to walk in again when her voice stopped him, distant and empty.

"I used to think that I wanted to be like a princess in the stories. Sora always used to rub my head and tell me I was his princess. And there was always the knight, and he came and saved the princess just like she wanted him to. But maybe the knight has better things to do."

Was she talking to him? Was she talking to anyone at all? He didn't know. But he did know one thing. This was about a lot more than fairy tales. He looked in and saw her smiling wistfully while looking at the flowers.

"I always wanted someone to teach me, help me...save me. But while—while I was there, and while everyone got hurt, I was afraid, and I wished that they hadn't come at all, because I _hated it. _I hated that someone might get hurt because of me. So I decided that I don't need anyone to save me, and that maybe it would be okay to die, just as long as I could stop those horrible things from happening. But...while we were picking flowers, I didn't want to die, and I thought that it would be nice to live, and to protect people like Kurosaki-kun does. Like you do."

Ishida closed his eyes tightly and pressed his forehead to the wall between the kitchen and the room where she sat. Her words were so soft, a hollow echo. He should not have been able to hear them, but the sadness rang out clearly in his mind. Orihime continued. "I don't need saving anymore. I'm not strong enough yet, but maybe, one day, I can save someone."

Ishida walked in quickly, taking the flowers from her hand and placing them in the cup. He smiled gently, meeting her eyes. "Just in time. If we'd let them go on like that any longer, they might have wilted."

She returned the smile. "Yeah."

Placing the flowers atop a desk by the window, he opened the blinds so that sunlight shone through. "You can save someone, Orihime. You _do_ save people." He wondered how many times he'd have to tell her that before she started to believe it. "You save people every day. I think that when you give the flowers to that soldier, he'll tell you the same thing. And all the people who are alive because of you...Kurosaki, Kuchiki-san..." And him, too, in a different sort of way. "If you asked any one of them, they'd tell you that, too. That you're _not_ weak. And that it's silly to stop believing in something just because bad things happen. I think you still believe in fairy tales, because that's just like you."

She smiled and touched the flower petals softly. "Thank you," she said. "I have to get back to work soon. They might need help."

"You're tired, Inoue-san..."

"Not anymore. I really want to see if I can do anything."

Standing at the door, she looked back to him, her face solemn and drawn. "That man Aizen told me—he told me that my power could reject past events. And just _once..._I thought about changing things."

Ishida froze, forcing himself to speak. "And why didn't you?"

"It would be wrong. I would be the most horrible person in the world. Because Kuchiki-san is such a kind person. She's my friend. And..." Her pause was louder than any words she could have spoken. "Kurosaki-kun...loves her." Casting a glance at the flowers that he had placed in the vase, she said, "I'll see you later, then."

And he said the words he always said. "Of course, Inoue-san."

He watched until he couldn't see her anymore.

* * *

To be honest, Ichigo couldn't actually remember where he'd heard the phrase, or where it had come from, or why the heck he was thinking it, but he spoke it softly as he made himself take one step after another.

"Time is of the essence..." he murmured yet again. And it often was. So, logically, it would only be right to accomplish this rather awkward task before he went off with her, right?

Right?

Ichigo leaned against the wall of the building he refused to enter. Biting his lip, he swore extensively, trying to think of a good enough reason to put this off. He couldn't think of any. He swore some more. "He—he probably won't even be in..." Ichigo told himself. "He's gotta be busy...'cause of the war. Yeah." Good. So he could go now.

"Who, me? Busy?" A soft chuckle carried on the wind toward him, and Ichigo's head slammed against the wall in surprise.

"Damn it!"

The owner of the soft voice peeked around the corner he'd spoken from, and winced. "Ouch. Very sorry for eavesdropping. Are you okay? Would you like to come inside?"

"No! I mean...yes. I mean...I have something I need t' talk to you about."

The murmured words were almost incomprehensible even to his own ears, but the man in front of him heard them perfectly. "Ooh...sounds serious. Come on in. Let's have some tea or something. No...tea _and _something. I'm starving." Ukitake Jyuushirou turned around and gave Ichigo an apologetic smile. "Sorry about surprising you."

Ichigo rubbed the back of his head. "Ehh, no problem. Um...one question before we go: will you get all weird on me when I start talking about stuff that's probably illegal? Because if so, I'll go right now."

Ukitake stopped outside of the door, slender hand halfway curled around its grip. He gave Ichigo a lengthy examination, then seemed to come to a conclusion. "It seems like this is definitely a matter to discuss inside. Follow me."

Ichigo wandered behind the man silently as they entered the 13th division's headquarters. He got a few funny stares and heard a couple whispers that sounded something like, "Looks like _him..._" but they were soon drowned out by the sound of loud squabbling coming from somewhere nearby. A high-pitched whine and a much deeper tone seemed to be very deep in disagreement. Eyes wide, Ukitake grabbed Ichigo's wrist and pulled him into the nearest room. "Kiyone and Sentarou," he explained. "That was them. Great people, God bless their souls, but very tiring. I also assume that you want to talk right away, so it's best that we have no interruptions."

He took a seat and gestured for Ichigo to do the same. After several moments, he said, "You came to ask me something?"

"I didn't say that."

"I assumed. Forgive me. You know what they say about assuming..." Ukitake smiled nervously. "A vulgar phrase, I'm afraid, but quite true..."

"Well... I do have a question. It's just...it's about Rukia."

Ukitake raised an eyebrow. "Ah, but Kuchiki-taichou would be the better person to ask about Rukia."

"No way in hell!"

"I see. So it's _that _kind of question."

Ichigo found the knitted chair cover very interesting all of the sudden. His fingers sought the little gaps in it and played with the cloth for a while. "Yeah," he finally murmured. "And here comes the whole probably-sorta-illegal thing. I know...asking you may be a mistake, as you may well report me to the whole of Soul Society, but Aizen is going to...I mean...my town, my_ friends_, everything I know is in danger."

Ukitake didn't speak, but his eyes remained solidly on Ichigo. "I understand. And...Rukia?"

"She_ wants_ to come with me. Forget that. She's...coming."

Ukitake closed his eyes briefly. "Oh?"

"Yeah. She says she'll drag behind me if she has to. I'd say that I could get her to stay somehow, but..."

Ukitake smiled slowly. "I do see your point. She's not very good at listening, is she? Of course, from what I've heard, you're not the master of that, yourself. Why are you coming to me about this, though? I apparently can't dissuade either of you from whatever it is you've decided to do."

Ichigo tenderly chewed the corner of his lip. "I just—I remember, back _then _when I tried to save her, you were pretty okay. And she seems to respect you an awful lot, and you know...you're her captain and all, so I thought I should ask you what you thought of her coming. With me."

Despite the circumstances, a very wide grin spread over the pale captain's features. "Ah, I see. I'm not stupid enough to think that you'd heed my wishes if I told you not to go, so all I will say is to be careful. And please...think on all of this. If it's really what you think should be done, then don't let anyone stop you. If, however, it's just an ill-thought-out rebellion against your superiors, I will pick you up and tie you to the tree outside this building until you've cooled down." Through a small window, he indicated the tree.

The mischievous quirk to his smile said that he wasn't lying.

"A week, a month—as long as it takes. Please believe me when I say that I'm not kidding. Can you tell me why it is you want to go?"

Ichigo leaned forward, balancing his elbows onto his knees and letting his fingers slide into his hair as he thought. He didn't raise his eyes to meet the gaze of the man across from him, but his words held more truth than his eyes could show. "Because I'm not gonna let anyone die."

He looked up after a moment, gauging the captain's expression.

Ukitake slowly stood. "You know...you remind me a bit of someone."

Ichigo didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing. "Okay," he mumbled.

Turning to the window, Ukitake sighed deeply, facing away from Ichigo. "If you're asking whether I approve of your motives, I do. If you're asking for my blessing on whatever hellish stunt you're going to pull—no less dragging Rukia along behind you—you have it. Please take care of her, though. I won't ask you what you're going to do, but I will ask you to use your head. I abhor lying, but...if I am asked what has happened to you, I'll be sure to say that I don't know. Is that okay with you?"

Ichigo smiled. It was true, in a way. Ukitake had managed throughout their whole conversation to skirt the issue of what exactly Ichigo was planning. "That's fine," he said, then he stood to his feet. "Umm, I should probably be heading out now. Ah...thanks. And I won't let anything happen to Rukia. I promise."

Ukitake smiled wistfully. "Good luck, then."

Ichigo couldn't help noticing the look Ukitake gave him as he turned around, hopeful and yet desolate, familiar yet unfamiliar, as if caught between the present and somewhere in the distant past.

"Be careful," the man whispered as Ichigo left. "Please."

* * *

The silence had begun to get annoying.

With nothing to dwell on but his thoughts—and Ishida had gotten tired of those a long while ago—he resorted to staring out the window. Picking a fallen petal from beside the flower vase, he rubbed it gently between his fingers. It was funny how even these little things made his thoughts stray right back to Orihime. He swore harshly, accidentally crushing the petal between his fingers.

Sure, he'd seen her sad. He'd seen her dejectedly immersed in thought, but not like this... never like this. He supposed some people might have thought it selfish how she had become so broken over what could be viewed as a simple infatuation. But if anyone thought that, they would be wrong.

If Ishida was honest, he'd noticed her the first time he'd seen her, long before he'd met Kurosaki, when he was just a Quincy, and Orihime just the girl who scattered cheerfulness like flower petals. It wasn't as if he was interested in her personal life, but he'd heard things about her past, and could not reconcile the words he'd heard with the girl who sat just across from him in the handicrafts club.

He'd told himself he would not make friends—they were lost too easily—but he couldn't help noticing her. She was different, a bright jewel among so many stones, because despite everything...

She was completely pure.

She was as innocent as a soul could get. Ishida knew that the creativity children displayed began to disappear as they grew. It was simply how the mind worked. But that imagination—the ability to entertain herself and others, and to come up with those (sometimes disturbingly random) tales—had never changed in her. The childish faith and strength had somehow remained.

Ishida couldn't imagine returning to the person he'd been as a child. Too many years had hardened that innate innocence until it was jaded to near-nonexistence.

It didn't take strength to be callous and cold. True strength was what Orihime had; the ability to remain as she was, with a heart as devoted as life itself and yet as fragile as glass.

Even before he had dared to call himself her friend, he'd thought she was the strongest person he knew.

He didn't presume to translate her heart's feelings, but if he knew anything, he knew that things had been unraveling in front of her for a long, long time now. Maybe she'd just realized how many things had changed, how many people.

Ishida snapped himself out of his thoughts. Hadn't he just resolved to stop thinking? Shaking everything from his head, he stood. Orihime probably wanted to bring those flowers in today. Glancing at the vase, Ishida smiled. They'd regained some of their brightness after being placed in the water, standing just a little bit taller.

He'd bring them in now. At least it would keep him from dwelling on things. It occurred to Ishida that he would look quite idiotic lugging a vase around, but he didn't think that the popular opinion of him could drop any lower, so he carried it with him. Those arrogant know-it-alls could think whatever they wanted.

A few minutes away from the hospital, he could tell something was wrong. The people that passed him weren't walking. Wherever they moved, they moved quickly, and their expressions threw him off. Anxiously, he picked up his pace, hurrying with each step until he arrived in front of the division's headquarters. And then he wasn't moving at all. Everything was moving around him, a blur of motion and a wild mess of loud voices and soft pleas. He stopped a young woman, grabbing her by the arm to get her attention. "What's going on?"

She gave him a reassuring smile. "An accident is all. Apparently there was a lab accident in the division twelve headquarters. Some kind of twisted experiment, I hear. A large amount of people were injured, and I'm afraid it's become rather hectic."

"I know a medic here."

The woman nodded distractedly. "It will be busy. This person will probably not be released from duty any time soon."

Ishida watched as the injured workers were hauled in on the shoulders of comrades and on stretchers. Some walked by themselves. Ishida caught a quick glance of one of the people orchestrating the flow of injured shinigami, of empty eyes and a body that looked too real to be manufactured. Kurotsuchi Nemu. She met his eyes in that brief moment, and he saw recognition there. She remembered him.

Just as quickly as she met his eyes, she quickly and purposefully averted them. If Ishida hadn't known better, he would have thought it looked an awful lot like shame. He edged through busy groups of medics and bystanders, skirting around a few minorly injured shinigami milling the crowds, until he saw the girl he'd come looking for.

Orihime waved when she saw him, swinging her arm wildly back and forth. "Ishida-kun! So busy! It's all confusing!" She was smiling as if she'd forgotten everything, and maybe, in this chaos, her mind had really allowed her to, if only for a moment.

Someone grabbed her arm and pulled her into the building as a clump of accident victims were hurried inside. She gave him another quick wave. "See you later, then!"

"Yeah," he nodded. A flash of something out of the corner of his eye made him spin, but the familiar sight had disappeared before he had even registered it. Kurosaki. He thought he'd seen Kurosaki. Another view of that crazy hair made it unmistakable.

_What was _he_ here for?_

Ishida slipped through the crowd and took the path he thought Kurosaki had taken. He wasn't sure exactly why he was following that orange-haired idiot, but it wasn't like there was much else he could do with his time. The path was a sort of hidden one, a semi-lit maze between and around the backs of buildings. Ishida wondered what would bring Kurosaki—intentionally loud and obvious—through such an indirect path. Occasionally, he'd hear the other boy's footsteps, but for the most part, Kurosaki stayed ahead of him. The cobbled road finally ended, joining with a more well-worn path, and Ishida glanced both ways, wondering which way Kurosaki had went.

Unfortunately, he was interrupted before he could come to a decision.

"_Hey!_ Hey, you, with the weird clothes."

The voice wasn't Kurosaki's. Ishida responded by glaring up at the speaker. "Good afternoon." He stepped far out of the way of the man, doing his best to ignore him.

"I thought so. You that _Quincy_ the guys are talkin' about?"

Ishida purposefully averted his attention, pretending that he had not heard a thing.

The man stood up straighter and sneered. "So you really are a coward, like they're saying. It figures. I never thought that group of nutcases was anything more. You know you guys are in the books, at the academy, right? A disgrace. Do you know that half the people I know don't even know what your kind is? So forgettable. _Quincy what?_"

Ishida wondered if any of these idiots actually thought their insults were something he hadn't heard before. It was always the same thing, over and over. "I'm sorry, but I don't have time for this." He shook his head, effortlessly stepping past the man and walking on.

Without warning, the shinigami stepped forward and hooked his foot around Ishida's ankle, making him stumble to the ground. Ishida drew a slow breath and sat up, brushing his clothes off. The man's voice pierced his thoughts.

"You leaving? Don'tcha know it's not polite to ignore a man while he's talking to you?"

_You're not exactly in the best position to lecture on polite conduct, _Ishida wanted to retort. He offered the man a caustic smile, dry and humorless. "If you'd excuse me, I'm afraid I was in the middle of something."

He'd taken three steps before another voice stopped him. He'd gotten quite tired of disembodied voices, but at least this one was familiar.

"Ishida! Is that you?"

He stopped, but didn't bother to turn around. "Kurosaki," he acknowledged.

Footsteps slapped at the pavement behind him. It figured that Ichigo had somehow made it around _behind _him. "I heard a bit of what was going on. You know, I would have stepped in, but I thought you might actually _stand up for yourself? _I guess I was mistaken. What the hell're ya doing?" He stopped with about a twenty-foot gap between them, sullenly sizing Ishida up. "I thought you did that whole Quincy pride thing, anyway."

Ishida shrugged. He didn't turn around, but he couldn't think of anything else to do with himself, so he stood there.

The man behind him grunted and growled out a laugh. "Quincy kid's a weakling, that's what."

In one moment, Ichigo stood there absent-mindedly, and in the next, he was gone. When Ishida registered his presence again, Kurosaki was inches away from the foul-mouthed shinigami.

Ichigo was smiling, though the expression held none of the mirth intended for it. His fist clenched into the fabric of the man's shinigami uniform, lifting him onto his toes. "I'm sorry, could you please repeat that?"

The man grunted and hissed incoherently.

Ishida sighed. "Seriously, Kurosaki. Just like you."

Ichigo glanced over at the other boy. "Glad to know you can still insult me. I was beginning to wonder what the hell'd gotten into you." Returning his attention to the angrily writhing shinigami, he said, "Hey! I didn't hear ya."

The man coughed and muttered a gruff reply. "Dun' need ta tell you _anything_."

Ichigo's expression deadpanned. "Then get the _hell_ outta here." He rather roughly dropped the man, pushing him so that he stumbled against the wall behind him. When he regained his balance, the shinigami hissed a plethora of curse words and walked away.

"Someone forgot to take their happy pill," Ichigo said.

Ishida stared straight-faced at the departing shinigami and began walking. "I don't remember asking for intervention."

Ichigo shrugged. "I wasn't helping. I was venting."

"More than usual," Ishida replied dryly, continuing to walk. "Something bothering you?"

Ichigo paused mid-step, then shrugged abruptly. "I could ask you the same." He paused for a long time, finding a large pebble with his foot and kicking it as far as he could down the street. "Me and Rukia...we're gonna do something. Something dangerous. Maybe stupid, if Ukitake-san's right. Don't you dare get all big-mouthed about it. We technically haven't received any sort of authorization..."

Ishida thought for a moment. "I figured. That's what you guys were talking about this morning. You're going to go do something idiotic again. Though if Kuchiki-san's accompanying you, it can't be that bad."

"Well... it can. But that aside..."

Ishida had his guesses about what Kurosaki was planning to do. But it wasn't like anything he said would change anything. "You and Kuchiki-san should be careful, either way. You have a knack for getting into trouble."

Ichigo put on an innocent look. "Who, me?" Then he paused. "You watch yourself, too. If that idiot was any indication, you're not exactly Soul Society's most well-accepted guest."

Ishida shrugged that off. "You better get going. Kuchiki-san's gonna give you hell, I'm sure."

Ichigo gave Ishida a dirty look, but ran ahead anyway. As soon as he was gone, Ishida sat down on the nearest seat—a small bench—and rested for a moment. He looked down at his hand, at the vase that had somehow come out unharmed from his latest adventure.

Something strange flickered through his consciousness—a thought or a presence, a memory—whatever it was, it was both familiar and unwelcome. He'd felt the same feeling while visiting Inoue earlier. It didn't fade, but since he could place it, and since there were more important things to worry about, he ignored it.

Tightening his grip on the vase, he turned back and walked down the main road until he found the familiar semi-darkened path.

In retrospect, he really should have noticed it. He had no excuse not to realize that he was walking into a trap, but lately, with Orihime, there had just been so many things to think about. His mind hadn't had a moment's reprieve.

He felt the foul reiatsu only when its source was inches from him. A long-fingered hand curled around his neck, lengthy fingernails digging into the flesh. "You will be quiet and follow me if you have any respect at all for that girl who came with you," a voice hissed.

_Kurotsuchi!_

"What have you done to Orihime?" Ishida whispered.

"So that's what she's called," Kurotsuchi murmured disinterestedly. "Come along, then. It's she who will suffer for any resistance on your part."

_Damn it. _Ishida's fingers slipped from the vase, and the glass shattered on the ground, water seeping into the dusty rocks as the flowers splayed through the mess.

_Orihime_...

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Well, I hope it was okay! I'm very worried about how this turned out... IshiHime has got to be the hardest pairing I've ever written, and as always, I can only hope my writing does justice to Kubo's wonderful characters. This is only my personal opinion, but I think that Orihime's feelings for Ichigo have a little bit to do with a desire to be needed, and to be saved. I do not mean to belittle her feelings at all, but I think that things might gradually change as she becomes stronger as a person. Anyway, I had so much fun writing the scene between Ichigo and Ukitake! Ukitake is one of my favorite characters. And, to be honest, I've never written any real dialogue between Ichigo and Ishida. Those two are way too fun. The whole friends/rivals thing is really great to write. Anyway, next chapter, everyone's gonna be in trouble! **Please Review? **Was this boring? I hope it reads okay...despite the length. The next chapter should be a little bit shorter. Again, I apologize...I didn't really plan for it to be this long.


	11. Colors of a Dying Day

**Colors of a Dying Day**

**Disclaimer/Notes: **Another late update! I'm sorry. This month was **busy**, with a week-long trip away from home, my birthday, my _sister's_ birthday, and two of my friends' birthdays. (I'm **17** now, yay!) Thank you to any readers who were able to bear with me this long! Summer is always a crazy time, and now there's my GED, getting a job, getting my license, and camp to think about. Anyway, I had fun writing some other characters in this chapter. Renji is cool.

* * *

Numb.

That's how he felt. A billion thoughts and possible scenarios flashed through his head with the detached brutality of a black and white slideshow. Ishida's fingers shook next to the weapon he couldn't draw. _It's she who will suffer for any resistance on your part, _the malicious voice echoed in his head.

Orihime. He bit his lip viciously between his teeth until he tasted copper. He wanted to kill this man. He'd always been better with logic than battle. It was logic that kept him from allowing his fingers to grab his weapon. If only that silly facade of cool togetherness he put on was real.

_How long have we been walking?_

It seemed like forever had passed in the moments filled with his thoughts, and he was inclined to believe it when he lifted his eyes and saw only green trees that parted to reveal a small view of hard stone. Anger, colder that the sky above them, washed through the Quincy's veins.

_I'll kill him right now._

But what, then, about Inoue? Ishida felt his teeth grind together, and he'd never hated anyone more in his life than the man in front of him—not even his dad. "What did you do to Inoue-san?" he demanded. He thought he could feel her reiatsu, which meant she was alive.

"Oh? She's not here. In fact, she's not anywhere near here. She probably has no idea that anything is wrong."

"What?" Ishida gritted through his teeth.

"My Nemu is assisting your friend at the fourth division. She's observing her. A single order, and Nemu will execute your friend. I'll explain that the wench just malfunctioned on me. Useless. She's my creation, and I'll kill her for doing it, and no one will know. She'll be dead, your friend will be dead, and then I'll eventually kill you, too. It's quite simple."

Ishida felt sick at the cold, emotionless finality in the words of the man ahead of him. Except there was no way that this thing could be called human. He may once have been, but emotion was completely absent in his words. Kurotsuchi Mayuri was a _shell_ of a human driven by the compulsion to study and to know, even at the cost of lives. A man like this... should not be allowed to continue existing.

Ishida unconsciously touched the cold metal of the pentacle around his wrist.

"Don't," Mayuri said, barely glancing back. "Even if you could kill me, your friend would already be dead. What, you think I need those damned butterflies to communicate with that foolish girl? She's mine! She'd hear my orders before I could die. In fact, I could tell her to kill that girl right now, if you wish, if it will make you shut up."

They came closer to their destination, and more than gray stone became visible through the trees. It was a small building—a single level above the ground, but the way it had been dug out suggested some underground levels as well.

"We won't be seen here," Mayuri said. "This is my research complex for things I'd rather not have reach the wrong eyes and ears. If that old man Yamamoto ever learned of some of the more private research I'm conducting, he'd have a coronary. This will be a perfect place to keep you."

Ishida thought that Mayuri was typical, just typical, because even he had to whine about the pains of organizing his little scheme; even he had to talk. Even he had some sort of twisted pride hidden somewhere in that head of his that demanded good work and better results. Ishida hated that even this slime had tattered shreds of humanity in him.

"Why me?" Ishida asked. _Surely there are more interesting subjects._

Mayuri answered simply, as if tired of talk. "Because I hate losing. You interest me." He paused. "You're unextroardinary, true, but I will not let your insolence slide. No more questions. Bait doesn't talk back."

Ishida felt a sudden hollow fear in his stomach. "Bait?"

"Of course," came Mayuri's tired reply. "Do you think I'll be satisfied with only you? That other Quincy interests me, too. I thought I'd concluded my study of your kind; I hate leaving things unfinished. As soon as the two of you are dead, I can _forget_ about your kind."

_Ryuuken. He wants Ryuuken. My...father. _Ishida paused and spoke softly with solid conviction. "He won't come," he said.

Mayuri laughed.

"Excuse me?"

Ishida's words were just as soft as he continued. "He'll leave me here. He could care less."

Mayuri smirked. "You don't even realize it, do you?"

"Realize what?" Ishida asked.

"He'll come," Mayuri said. "I don't doubt it."

* * *

"Oi, Renji!" Rukia leaned onto her knees, breathless, as she caught up with him. She slipped into step beside him, easily matching his long strides, and gasped deep breaths from running. When her breathing had evened, she looked up. The grin she gave him was the same grin she'd given him when they were little in Rukongai. "You look as high-and-mighty as always, ya bum! Just 'cause you're a Vice Captain and I'm not doesn't mean you can pull your holier-than-thou act on me."

She elbowed him, dropping the facade of nobility and becoming the laid-back girl he'd loved to watch ever since he'd met her. "Slouch, heathen!" she laughed. "You look like some noble when you walk straight. It's infuriating. I see enough of that, you know."

That, too, was like always. When they'd been younger, she hadn't bowed to his tough attitude, maintaining her in-your-face aggressiveness even when they had joined the academy. She'd smothered it when she'd been adopted into the Kuchiki clan, but it was by no means gone. "Yeah, yeah. What are you coming around here for? You're always hanging around _Kurosaki. _Didn't figure you'd stray."

She sighed. "Yeah. About that..." Her eyes wandered, staring at some close object even though he could tell she was somewhere very far away from where she stood.

Renji rolled his eyes, letting his posture slouch a little. It was okay if it was just her who saw, anyway. "Somethin' wrong, Rukia? You're distracted."

She jerked back to the present. "Nothing's wrong! Nothing at all. It's just... I thought I should tell you. I'm...going to be gone. I'll be fine, but... Please don't tell Nii-sama. We'll be leaving soon—"

"We?"

"...Ichigo and I. We have to leave...to do something. Renji—you're one of the only people I can trust with this. I wanted to say goodbye, you know? You're my best friend ever. If I hear that you leaked this to Nii-sama to get on his good side, though, I will totally beat you senseless, okay?"

He jumped a bit when she playfully grabbed his arm. _Friend, huh? _"Of course. I wouldn't tell, Rukia. Not ever. Ya gotta have more faith in me than that!"

"Of course I do! Just making sure."

"Rukia... the game. You're going to miss it, then?"

He'd invited her to play a game of real-world "Poker" with him and some old eleventh division friends that night. He had to admit, he'd been looking forward to it.

"Oh...that." Her eyes took on that sad, heavy look, like she was able to see into his soul to what he _really _felt. It was unnerving. She bit her lip, slowly raising her eyes to look at him. "I'm really sorry, Renji. I can't. I didn't expect this to happen. I really meant to come..."

"Don't worry about it!" He tried for an encouraging smile. He wondered how pathetically he failed.

"Maybe next time?"

He laughed, but it felt too loud, too forced. "Yeah. Next time, then. I'll hold you to it!"

"Thanks, Renji! Anyway, there's someone else I need to see. Better be going." She nudged him playfully and ran off.

He smiled until he couldn't see her anymore, but then it slipped from his face like watercolor paint.

Once she was gone, he leaned his head against the nearest wall. "Rukia..." His voice faded and he clenched his teeth. If that orange-haired maniac didn't bring her back safe, God help him...Renji would murder the poor sucker. Renji growled and slammed his fist into the rough wall until the life faded from his anger and left him with a few muttered cursewords and a raw and bleeding fist. He stared at the empty space she'd once been in, and wished he'd never let her go back then.

"See you, Rukia."

* * *

Orihime lowered the shield and wiped her face. "Good!"

Kurotsuchi Nemu observed impassively as the Orihime leaned over the hospital bed in exhaustion. She watched the sunny-haired girl's plight for breath. Humans really confused her to no end. She spoke up with clinical coldness. "Were you not told to heal them only until they are in no critical danger?"

Orihime glanced up, head cocked at an odd angle while resting on the sleeping shinigami's blankets. "I suppose so. But I couldn't leave him like that. I really couldn't."

Nemu tried to understand the girl's logic. "It's inefficient," she said. "Your own energy would be conserved if you healed them only until they were out of immediate danger. The number of injured demands compromise."

A muffled laugh echoed from the covers. "Well... yeah. But I'm not the one who's hurt. It'd be kinda silly of me to let them stay hurt when I could do something about it."

Nemu shook her head. She looked at the girl and wondered why Mayuri-sama would want to kill her. She wondered if she should ask. Maybe this human would know the answer. She held her tongue though—held her tongue, such a silly phrase, but Mayuri-sama always said it; "Hold your tonge, child," he'd say, or, "You have no experience in these matters. Hold your tongue and get out of my sight."

Mayuri-sama would be irate if she said something out of line. So she just watched, as she had been told to.

If Mayuri-sama wished it, she would have to kill this girl. That was a new phrase to Kurotsuchi Nemu. _Have to, _she had learned, was a phrase one used when one did not wish to do something, but did so anyway. She supposed that this was an appropriate application. She really did not wish to kill this girl. She did not wish for that other boy to be killed, either. The kind one who had spared Mayuri-sama's life.

She had asked him if he would spare the boy's life, as well. Mayuri-sama had laughed at her. Most people told her that laughter was a thing that people did when they were happy. She didn't believe them. Mayuri-sama never looked happy when he laughed. He'd spared her the smallest glance. "Why would I do that, foolish girl?" he'd taunted.

_"Because,"_ she'd replied. _"He let you live, Mayuri-sama. Wouldn't it be right to do the same?"_

Mayuri had scowled. She wondered if she had displeased him. _"You shouldn't talk with those other divisions. They're putting strange ideas in your head." _Then he'd said something about how annoying it was when a mockery of humanity tried to be human.

"Nemuuuuuu-san! Nemu!"

She snapped to attention. The honey-haired girl was in her face. Slender fingers waved over her eyes. The girl called Orihime laughed. "Oh! That's good! I thought you'd gotten lost in thought. You know, if you get too lost in thought, you'll be gone forever, and no one will be able to find you again!"

Nemu cocked her head. "Really? I haven't heard of this."

"I heard it from my brother," Orihime said, nodding.

Nemu nodded, too, slowly. "I see."

_I don't want to kill you._

It was the first thought in her mind when she looked back down at the girl. "Sooo," Orihime said. "Where to next? I think there's a patient in the next room that needs tending to..."

Nemu nodded. "He is the fourth seat of our division. He was unfortunately involved in the accident."

"Let's go, then! He'll be fixed up in a jiffy!"

Nemu followed slowly behind the young healer as she pranced to the next room. "What is this jiffy?"

Orihime thought about it. "I dunno! Just something I heard."

"Jiffy..." Nemu said the word slowly, testing it out on her tongue. It rolled off strangely, in the kind of way that begged to be repeated. "Jiffy," she said again.

"Quirky, huh?" Orihime giggled.

Nemu smiled. "You're very strange," she said. "I'm quite glad I met you." Her smile grew, and she allowed her happiness to make a small sound that one might've called a laugh if they'd listened hard enough.

Those people were right. You really did laugh when you were happy.

"That's good," Orihime said. "I'm glad I met you, too. You know, when Ishida-kun gets back today, I think we can all go pick flowers together! We can pick some for all the hurt people in your division, okay?"

"Ishida...kun?"

"Oh... he's the big, tall one who's really skinny and has glasses and a bracelet—which I think is funny because I don't know many guys who wear bracelets—and he's a Quincy."

Nemu's footsteps abruptly ceased. She lowered her head. The Quincy.

_Was it this feeling that was called shame?_

"Of course," she said slowly.

Orihime opened the door and held it open for Nemu. "You coming?"

"Of course," she said again. Before she could walk inside, words she shouldn't have spoken spilled past her lips. "I don't want to you die," she said. "I don't want you to die, and I don't want _him_ to die, either."

Orihime froze. "What?"

_I should stop. I should. I shouldn't say anymore. Mayuri-sama will be displeased with me._

Nemu did something else for the first time in her life.

She'd always thought that _hold your tongue _was such a strange phrase, anyway. "There's something...I need to tell you. It's about the Quincy."

* * *

Rukia entered the division barracks, and a quiet swept over the people inside. She would never get used to it. After all, she was the member of their division who had almost died, the one who'd harbored the hougyouku, the one who had fraternized with a human boy. Even though no one harbored any hatred toward her, a hush always followed where she went, as if she was just a ghost.

Well... almost always. Kotsubaki Sentarou didn't seem to have any problem with her. He ran forward, awkwardly stumbling over his own feet. His voice was all hot breath in her face. "Rukia-chan! Are you here to see Ukitake-taichou?"

Kiyone, not to be outdone, rushed ahead of Sentarou, slapping her hand on Rukia's shoulder. "I'm not sure if he's in, Rukia-chan," she said. "The captain has been very busy lately."

"_I_ was going to say that!" Sentarou raged, and the argument that ensued had to do with "stupid, illiterate Rukongai swine!" — this particular insult hurled, of course, by Kiyone — and something about booger-faced babies, as usual.

"I'm sorry, I'll come back later," Rukia murmured amidst the uproar.

The door to the captain's room opened, and Ukitake peeked out sleepily, causing the argument's pitch to lower drastically. "Kiyone, Sentarou," he said. "What is it this time?" His eyes settled on Rukia, and widened. "Oh! You look so serious, Kuchiki!" A smile spread over his face. "Come on in. Sorry about the confusion. I was actually feeling a little bit under the weather—today has been a horribly long day... I'm afraid I fell asleep on my desk!" he laughed. "Here, come on in, sit wherever you like. I was wondering if you'd drop by."

Rukia perched on the edge of his chair. "You were?"

He nodded.

Before he could say anymore, Rukia spoke up. "I... I have to go."

Ukitake blinked. "The restrooms are outside."

Rukia laughed despite herself, but the sound was more like a choked sob. "Taichou!"

His smile was wistful this time. "I hate seeing you all serious like that. It doesn't become you. As you were saying?"

"I have to leave. I mean... Not forever, you know. Just for a while. I mean...I guess it's because—"

"I know."

"—because—Wait. What?"

"I know. Kurosaki-san told me. He visited earlier."

"He—he did?"

Another nod. "Yes, and we had an interesting conversation about the tree outside of this window, and what it would be like to be chained to it for all eternity."

It was Rukia's turn to blink cluelessly. "Oh. Okay. Umm... so... about what I was saying...?"

"I've already told Kurosaki that it's none of my business what he does."

Rukia's head lowered shamefully. "I... we're gonna go to—"

Ukitake held up a hand and shook his head. "Please, Rukia. Don't tell me; I'll only worry about you."

She nodded. "I'll come back safe, don't you worry."

He smiled gently. "You should be going, I suppose."

Rukia got up off of the seat, which she'd never actually sat in, and walked to the door. Ukitake stood and followed behind her.

"Goodbye, Ukitake-taichou."

"See you soon," he corrected.

She got to the door, and her fingers wrapped around it, but she didn't open it. "Ukitake-taichou," she blurted. "I understand... about life and pride. But I think that there's something much more important."

"What is it?" His words were quiet.

She bit her lip, but her words didn't suffer for it. Clearly, she said, "Love. That's what it is."

She didn't expect it when he reached up and mussed her hair. "Stay safe, Rukia," he said, and she couldn't help but think that his voice sounded horribly sad. She opened the door and closed it. The smile remained on his face until then, but when she had taken a few steps outside—only then did she hear the violent coughing.

And all she could think was _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._

* * *

Ichigo was waiting for her when she came out, leaning against the railing of something or other, gaze straight ahead. He looked serious. Rukia nodded solemnly as she caught up with him. She tried something happy. "He said something about a tree," she said. "And tying you to it."

"Yeah, yeah. I remember," Ichigo said; a smile quirked his lips just slightly. "Are you ready?"

"Do you need to ask?"

He sighed. "The scouting mission leaves in about fifteen minutes. The guess wandering around outside that frickin' barren wasteland has its advantages, because I know of a secluded entrance. We'll get in that way."

The sun had hidden behind the clouds, but it was there, all the same. The bloody red and fiery orange hues of a sun about to set had been painted across every cloud, and to Rukia it felt like a very foreboding farewell.

"Are you sure?" she asked, and he didn't answer, because she knew he was.

And she would follow him, because she couldn't let him go alone. She'd even follow the idiot to Hueco Mundo, that damned pale, lifeless place where she'd almost been killed.

They made quick time to the place of departure, where a group of equally solemn shinigami rested in wait, ready to go through. "Late again, Kurosaki," spoke the man at the head. Seeing the female behind the orange-haired substitute, the man immediately straightened. "You! I mean, Kuchiki-taichou said—"

"He's allowing me to attend, this once. Shall I tell him that you doubt his words?" Her eyes glared icicles.

"N—No! I was quite surprised that I did not hear about it, first, though. Welcome, Kuchiki Rukia-san." The man's attention diverted to the other shinigami in his group, and he spoke loudly. "Head out!"

The last thing Rukia saw before heading through the gate to Hueco Mundo was the dying colors of a day that was already dead, and just didn't know it.

* * *

"I cannot disobey Mayuri-sama's will, but please... go away so that you are not here. If you are not here, then I cannot harm you." Nemu sat next to the unconscious fourth seat from her division, hands clasped between her legs. Deep black bangs fell over her eyes. "I'm very sorry."

Orihime shook her head. "Thank you, Nemu-san. I don't really understand everything, but that was something really hard for you to do. What I said before, though, I meant it, okay? You and me and Ishida-kun, we'll do something one day."

Nemu nodded.

"Where is Ishida-kun?" Orihime asked.

The young woman lifted her gaze so that deep blue eyes met Orihime's. "I'm sorry; I don't know very well. There is a complex far away from here, where Mayuri-sama conducts his more dangerous research. It's quite secluded; he likes to do things there because it's difficult to find. It's where he does things that he says... others should not know about. I'm sorry that I can't say any more than that."

"Thank you, Nemu-san. Could you please tell Unohana-san that I'll be gone for a little bit? Please tell her that I'm very, very sorry I had to leave, and that I promise I'll make up for it."

"I will," Nemu said.

Orihime nodded, and the black-haired girl watched her run out, her pace frantic and her eyes even more scared, and she prayed that the honey-haired girl would not fail.

Outside of the building, footsteps making frightened clatters against the buzzing streets of Seireitei, Orihime ran. She wondered if Ishida knew that his reiatsu was a fragrance like grass and skies and sunny days. She wondered if he knew that it lingered, just a little bit, even when he was gone. She ran until her feet hit something on the ground, sending it clattering and shattering across the pebbles. She stopped, then, and her heart skipped at what she saw. Splayed out on the sidewalk, dying, were the flowers she'd forgotten to bring to the hospital. Orihime drew in a breath and got ready to run again. The scent of his reiatsu was fading too quickly, and it was almost gone among this maze of streets.

She ran, but she couldn't get images of that shattered vase out of her mind.

Terror; that's what she felt, but even more than that, there was emptiness. For the longest time, she'd been a little bit empty, filling it and filling it with words she tried to say and smiles she forced on herself. One day, the emptiness had disappeared, filled with something warm and soft, something that caught her when she fell and held her through the dark. Somehow, she hadn't realized when the emptiness had gone away, but she knew exactly when she'd started feeling whole for the first time in her life.

It had been with him, when they'd been stranded together as unlikely allies in Soul Society. She'd never felt as safe as she had then. Somehow, he'd coaxed out smiles that were not so worried and forced. When worries did arrive, he'd soothed them. Somehow, he'd been near her in some way or another ever since then.

Only now that the emptiness had returned did she realize how whole she'd felt in those crazy moments with him by her side.

She didn't know what to call it, but there was an unfamiliar feeling building and solidifying inside of her saying that if _anyone _got in her way, she'd sic Tsubaki on their ass.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Finally some IshiHime from the Hime part of the whole thing! I figure it'd take her a little while to get it through her head that there's someone else out there but _Kurosaki-kun. _I already have most of the next chapter written. Hehe, about that last line... I figure if Orihime was determined enough to do something, she could use Tsubaki with the conviction needed to carry out a strong and effective attack. I totally wish she would do something like that in the manga. Her innocent nature is nice, but even innocence has to have some thorns, sometimes, to stay alive. Well, some major fights are coming up along with the climax and end of this story... I'm not too great with fights. (_gulp_) Wish me luck! I think a few more chapters should bring about the end. **Please Review? **_I'd appreciate any thoughts more than I can possibly say._


	12. Welcome to the Nightmare

**Welcome to the Nightmare**

**Disclaimer/Notes: **Standard disclaimer...don't own characters, et cetera et cetera and so on. Anyway, as of last chapter, Essence is officially **_Extra Crispy, _**thanks to a handful of flames. I guess last chapter really sucked! (_grin_) But honestly, it really taught me to appreciate the kind people here even more. I love you guys! (_glomptackles everyone_) Anyway, here comes some more insanity from yours truly.

* * *

Her feet tapped a steady rhythm against the hard walk. She didn't know how long she'd been running. Her lungs burned as she gasped for air, trying and failing to drag in enough oxygen, and the feet slapping against the pavement ached with sharp bursts of pain. The path was all uphill now.

It didn't matter.

If she stopped, even for a second, she'd lose him. She didn't even know if she'd gone in the right direction, because she couldn't sense a thread of reiatsu other than the fading trail that led to a place where he no longer was. If she stopped, it would disappear. If she stopped, she would not be able to find him again.

She could not lose him. Not now.

So she ran. She ran until the busy streets of Seireitei were far behind her, until the only things touching the cobbled walk were blades of grass and the fading light of day.

_If there's... nothing else... that I can ever do for anyone in my life, if there is no one else I can save... please let him be okay. Please._

Inoue Orihime never cried. She'd promised herself that she wouldn't. Because Sora would want her to be happy. All her friends... they would want her to be happy. She would be a hindrance and a bother if she burdened them with her tears.

In her memory, she could see his soft smile, that expression that always seemed burdened with a sadness she couldn't comprehend. The memory faded to black before she could grasp it, though.

She blinked hard, and warm trails slipped down her face.

_I won't let anything happen to you. If I die, if I kill... I won't let anything happen to you._

Every time... every time she had fallen, she had stared up from where she'd landed, eyes fixed on Kurosaki Ichigo. She'd been pulled gently to her feet, and she'd continued to gaze at the brave orange-haired boy who was everything she was afraid to be.

She'd done that for so long that she neglected the simplest and most important fact.

Every time she had fallen, it had been _his _hand that had pulled her up once more, dusting off her bruises and bringing a smile to her face. He'd always been the one beside her, always there, even though her gaze was perpetually fixed on someone else.

_Ishida-kun, I will save you._

* * *

Ishida Ryuuken was not fond of swearing. First of all, it was uncivilized. Such words only suggested that the user lacked the intelligence to find the proper insult. Secondly, it meant that, in doing so, one actually had to admit that they cared enough about a situation to resort to using such crude words to refer to it.

At this moment, quite a few choice words caught on his tongue, and a couple ground out through his teeth.

He might not have been fond of it, but it did wonders as a stress reliever.

Everything outside of his office was dark. This particular section of the hospital had been vacated a while ago. He was the only one who remained, staying long after he should have gone home. Home... but what was there, really? A refridgerator packed with food he'd have to throw out, soon, anyway. A house completely void of life. Sada was long gone. Uryuu had moved out before most kids learned to drive. Even his father, that damned idealistic fool, was gone. How was home any different from this place, sterile and empty and cold? At least here at the hospital he could occasionally hear the breaths of the near-dead and those saved from death.

Both hands cradled his face, and his grip tightened when he remembered the conversation that had just unfolded in this room.

_His open door had creaked. He'd looked up, and as he did, a shadow had stepped from the darkness, a robed figure with a macabre face that was all darkness and light and sharp angles. Eyes like fire peered at him._

_"I'll call security," Ryuuken had said absently, unfazed by the strange figure's form._

_"They can't see me, foolish human. You remember me? Probably. The last time we met, I do believe your boy was a pathetic mass of flesh in my hands. I'm surprised that he's all healed up now. Better for my research."_

_"How do you—"_

_"I have him. That boy of yours."_

_Anyone who knew Ishida Ryuuken really well might have noticed the way his fingers clenched against the solid wood of his desk. Fortunately, this man did not know him well. "Good for you. Am I supposed to react to this information?"_

_The man tilted his head in an infuriating way. The smile that curved over his thin white lips reeked of malice. "I've studied enough humans to know how their minds work. There really is no place here for pretense. Show up or don't; if you don't, he'll just die much quicker. And, of course, you will meet his expectations."_

_Ryuuken flinched. _Of course... Uryuu didn't expect him to come.

_"I used that woman to get to him. He's fine, now, but don't worry—soon enough, he'll be quite unrecognizable. Can you imagine it?"_

_Ryuuken never lost his temper. Never. But he jumped upward out of his seat anyway and grabbed at the man. His fingers only met air. The man's image wavered._

_A grating laugh colder than ice echoed to his ears. "Do you think I'm really here? Sorry, but breaking in would have been an inconvenience I didn't want to deal with. Find the transmitter for this image. Inside of it you'll find a small key. Should you come, it will help you find where to go. The second item will mask your presence. After all, we can't have the powers that be knowing how a powerful Quincy entered Seireitei, can we?"_

_The image had flickered and disappeared, leaving him in darkness._

Since then, the darkness had become much more complete, but he didn't bother flipping the lights.

There was nothing to think about. He already knew what he was going to do.

Swearing harshly through his teeth, Ishida Ryuuken stood.

_

* * *

_Ishida Uryuu tucked his thumb tightly into his palm and pulled hard. 

It didn't work this time, either. The raw skin of his wrists protested violently against all the jolting.

How long had Mayuri been gone?

Not nearly long enough.

Imprisoned in the compound, Ishida struggled against his restraints. Mayuri had made sure to explain that the walls of this place kept spiritual pressure from leaking out and revealing its location. But, he had explained indifferently, it did nothing to _suppress_ that power. Thus, the reason for the reiatsu cuffs now clasped around his wrists.

The whole ordeal set Ishida to wondering if these things came in sizes, because these ones were rather loose. He figured, if he was able to tuck his thumb in just right, he might be able to get out.

Of course, his hands would pay for it.

But it didn't matter. He felt the stinging pain of raw, bleeding skin, and he ignored it. Mayuri had every intention of using Uryuu to catch his father. And despite all that he said to the contrary, Ishida would not let that happen.

How he could love such a man as Ishida Ryuuken, he didn't know. But nothing in the world could change the fact that Ryuuken was his father. And Uryuu wasn't ready to let him die just yet.

And what of when he was gone? There would be nothing to keep Mayuri from taking Orihime, as well.

He wouldn't let anything happen to her. Not to her, and not to his dad. If they died, it would be all his fault.

So he struggled.

* * *

Rukia stood in the midst of darkness.

It was everything she'd expected it to be when they walked through the gate to Hueco Mundo and took up their positions. It was everything that wasn't alive. Even the moonlight was dead, its glow as gray and empty as the twisted land it illuminated. She was glad when Ichigo finally told her that it was safe to go inside.

She dug a foot into a clump of sand as she climbed a dune to get better access to the giant fortress that was Las Noches. "Ichigo... do you think... I mean, what if—"

"I make it a habit not to," he said.

"To what?"

"Think. Because then you _think, _and suddenly there are a billion reasons why exactly you shouldn't be doing something. Like, _I may die. _Like, _I may fail. _So you just think one thing: I won't. And you keep going and you try not to _think_ anymore. We'll do this, Rukia, some way or another. I've gotten stronger, you know. I really have."

_So stupid. Stronger, maybe, but still so stupid. Did he think he could? Did he think he could really do this?_ And then she hated herself because he trusted her, and she couldn't... But she did trust him.

She was just so, so afraid for him. Aizen was nothing like anyone had expected him to be. He wasn't kind and he wasn't anything else. He was a genius whose ego was bigger than Soukyouku and twice as dangerous. He was a man who wanted to become God. The scary part was that he could. If they left him like this, too many things could go wrong. The hot-headed fool was right about one thing: they could not leave it like this. Strategy and planning, scouting missions and small battles—those were fine.

But _hell, _when you wanted to kill someone, you didn't pluck their hair out. You grabbed straight for their heart, and crushed it. Aizen was the heart of this hell. If he was gone, things would be so much easier. The arrancar and espada were bound only by the desire to fight and to kill. That primitive desire had not changed even in their unnatural transformation from hollow to arrancar. Without a general to order them into battle, they'd scatter. Like pieces on a chessboard, they were strong when played, but were otherwise merely pieces.

And Rukia repeated the words over to herself. _I will follow him._

"Here it is," he said. "It's some sorta ventilation. Heck, I figure even those monsters need air-conditioning." He laughed to himself. "We've actually been getting things done. There used to be a built-in barrier around this, and these weird bars, but our team has lowered a lot of the defenses without getting caught. We're breaking this castle down bit by bit."

He sounded proud. "Now it's time to go." He clasped his hands for her to lift herself into the shaft, and then followed behind her. The first entrance was a well-lit corridor.

Rukia stared through metal slats to the ground below. "Strategically speaking, this isn't the best place to enter. It's well-lit and open on both ends—"

But Ichigo was already lifting it away. "Good as any other," he said, dropping silently to the ground. Rolling her eyes, she followed. At least the idiot was tamping down his reiatsu. If he hadn't, it would have been a beacon to any nearby enemies. Rukia had made hers nonexistent; she could not be tracked now. She was very proud that Ichigo was learning things, though. She'd even tried to teach him a bit of kidou. He hadn't made much progress, but he hadn't blown himself up, either, much to Renji's disappointment.

Ichigo stepped silently through the halls, and Rukia followed at his side. Ichigo spoke quietly. "Some of the scouters were able to make a map of this place, with the help of our info from our last stint here, and their own explorations." He dug a map out of his pocket. He constantly amazed her. Had this idiot for once in his life learned subtlety and preparation? She smiled, but looking up at his face, it melted slightly away. Yes, he had prepared. He was serious about this. Serious enough to die. Nodding, she looked at the map. Ichigo continued.

"The scouter who mapped this out was killed when he reached..." Ichigo pointed. "_Here. _This was a map etched with reiatsu, though, so the others outside were able to get the information. This chamber seems to be the most important place. These three rooms may well be where Ichimaru and Tousen and Aizen stay. The chamber is probably his let's-play-God place. I think that'll be the place we go. If he's not there, I'll sit on his freakin' throne until he _gets _there."

So maybe he hadn't prepared too much.

"Sounds good," she said.

He nodded. "Thought so. There are some out-of-the-way hallways; we'll follow those until we get here, to the fork. Then we're majorly screwed. Most of Aizen's arrancar and such have been deployed to one place or another, and he's cut down usage on the hougyouku since he wasn't able to get Inoue to restore it. He's finding other means. Either way, he's gonna be our main problem. You... you can..."

"I'll take down anyone who gets in your way, Ichigo. I'll be your shield and your sword, and I'll make sure you get to Aizen."

Ichigo looked at her. _Really _looked at her, and she saw that he saw her determination. He nodded.

They continued on. Something niggled at the back of Rukia's mind, a frightening feeling that made her want to turn around and look behind her every other second. It said something was wrong, so wrong, but it slithered in and out of her consciousness, there and then not, sending shudders through her with its comings and goings.

So familiar. "Ichigo, do you feel that?"

He shrugged. "Huh?"

"Too easy; this is too easy. I feel... like someone is following us."

Ichigo shrugged. "If they are, they'll show themselves soon. Then all we have to do is kill them."

Rukia smiled at his simple answer.

"Oh... hey. Wait."

"What is it?" Already on edge, she tensed at his startled voice, leaning forward to see what he was looking at.

"This map... these hallways aren't like this. They _aren't. _This path should go straight...it shouldn't separate like that." Rukia looked up. The path ahead split into three separate ones.

The feeling in the back of Rukia's mind suddenly intensified a thousand times, and Ichigo's eyes widened. A blindingly powerful reiatsu washed over them, and Rukia recognized it now. Playful, almost—sly and yet somber, trying to bring them to their knees. It felt like drowning in serpents that snapped their deadly fangs only inches from her face.

Ichimaru Gin.

* * *

Ryuuken ground his teeth for several minutes at the thought, but finally he gave in and approached the innocuous building.

A familiar face popped out of the shop's half-open door, and, trying to maintain a professional demeanor, Ryuuken nodded acknowledgement.

"Ahhh, Ishida-sensei! It's strange to see you here," bubbled Urahara Kisuke, peeking from behind his fan. "You see, most of my customers have been young ones lately! What can I get you?"

"You know why I came here," Ryuuken murmured. "That idiot Kurosaki Isshin seems to think you can get me to Soul Society in the quickest way possible."

"Oh... Isshin-san. I haven't seen him recently. Is he doing well?"

Ryuuken sighed and lit a cigarette. "Probably rotting his braincells away somewhere. Ask him yourself."

Kisuke stepped from the shop's door, lowering the fan. His demeanor changed drastically, from silly to serious in the space of a second. "You're quite moody, Ryuuken. Has something happened?"

"It's Uryuu." Ryuuken said nothing more.

Urahara nodded. "I see. If I remember correctly, isn't your policy strictly non-interference, though?"

"Things change," Ryuuken replied.

"I see. Well, follow me, follow me." He led Ryuuken into the shop, where two children were stacking boxes.

The first, a boy with fiery hair and an expression to match, spoke up loudly. "What's that guy doing here?"

The girl quickly shushed him. "Jinta, _shh!_ You'll scare away customers!"

The boy moodily jabbed her in the ribs. "Shut it, y' baby."

"Jintaaaa..." the girl whined. "It's not my fault if you make me drop this box..."

Urahara grinned, gesturing to the children. "Jinta and Ururu; my assistants. Tessai is here somewhere, but God knows you probably don't want to bother with introductions. The particular road you're looking to travel has been quite busy as of late, so it shouldn't take too horribly long to get it ready—I've made some improvements. It should spit you out in one piece. I _think_. Stupid thing... more trouble that it's worth. I'll have to make some minor adjustments, but it should be simple. You'll be landed outside of the gates of Seireitei, because that's the only connection we can establish with such short notice, but it should be no problem for you. Hurry, hurry, then... follow me."

Ryuuken followed the blond-haired shop owner down a long ladder. Urahara landed first, and Ryuuken coldly surveyed the scenery of the underground cavern. The high walls were painted to look like sky.

Urahara frowned. "Your reaction really sucked, Ishida-san. Usually I at least get an _ooh _or an _ahh. _Oh well. Come along, then. We'll get you going right away. Make yourself comfortable. It should take a few minutes. It could be hours if I calibrated everything correctly...or days, but I don't think you want that, do you?"

Ryuuken shook his head.

"Okay then. If you don't land on the other side intact, don't blame me." He shrugged.

Finally, the gate was prepared. Ryuuken crushed his cigarette in the dust beneath his feet, and walked up to the large gateway.

"Good luck!" Urahara waved happily, and Ryuuken thought that he and Isshin might have gotten along quite well at some time. The idiots.

Ryuuken looked at the items he'd taken from Mayuri's device. A small key and a nearly transparent sheet of what looked like colored glass shone up from his hand.

Urahara frowned, glancing at the objects. "Ohh... that Mayuri fellow copied my designs! You go get him, Ishida-san. With those, your journey should be easy enough." Urahara stepped back, muttering something about copy-cats and plagiarists.

Ryuuken nodded toward the strange shop-keeper before stepping through. "Thank you," he said.

"No problem. Hurry, hurry...time's a' wasting!"

He walked through the gate. The moment he stepped foot on the ground, he started running. The key seemed to be doing the job Mayuri said it would, because it began resonating with something, as if it was being pulled toward a distant location. Ryuuken didn't question it. He just followed.

* * *

"Why hello!" Came the overly cheerful voice of Ichimaru Gin. "Looks like I've been found out."

_Behind them?_

"I hope you like this maze I've constructed. I'm sorry if you found navigation a bit confusing; I really have this horrible habit of playing with the hallways. It just gets so _boring_ around here."

Rukia spun around to see his smile. It wasn't apologetic in the least.

Slender fingers clasped under his chin. "Ah, well, looks like I caught me some mice! Lucky for you, I like to play with my food. Are you foolish enough to believe that you and your overpowered little friend could make it far, little Rukia-chan?"

Ichigo growled and stepped in front of her. "I can handle this guy, Rukia."

She grabbed at his shoulders, trying to move him away. "Damn it, Ichigo! Don't you _dare _play hero with me. I can protect myself, so get moving and find Aizen! Remember what I said! Remember what you came here for, idiot."

"Aww, how sweet," Ichimaru Gin intoned. He took a slow step forward.

Ichigo shot a glare to Gin and then shifted ever so slightly toward Rukia, indecision visible in his frantic movements. Rukia saw the determination that tensed his features, and not for the first time, she didn't like it because she knew what it meant.

"I'm not leaving!" he said.

Caught between watching the slowly advancing Gin and staring rather murderously at Ichigo, she tossed out a hand as if to physically block him from coming closer. "Like hell you aren't! You know that whole 'never going to forgive you' thing? It qualifies _very_ heavily here! So _get _your _ass _moving and do what you need to do! You'll only distract me here! I need to know you're doing what you came here for! That's what I'll fight for, Ichigo."

Staring at him, she hoped all her feelings showed in her eyes, even though emotions were horrible. She hoped he saw her faith, her trust. "Now go!"

"Rukia..." The look on his face was torn and uncertain, almost childish, seeking answers in her eyes. Then dark shutters slammed down over his expression and he gave her a nod, turning away. "Look both ways and all that!"

He still doubted her abilities, didn't he? Was that why he was so hesitant to go?

He smiled at her, as if sensing her thoughts. "I'll see you later, Rukia. Make sure to tell me all about it."

And that was all she needed. His footsteps tapped a steady running rhythm on the hard floors.

Gin cocked his head, the smile quirking slightly as hair the color of lifeless moonlight drifted over his eyes. "Not so fast," he murmured, drawing his zanpakutou with an effortless flick. "_Ikorose_, _Shinsou_." The small dagger-like blade extended faster than her eyes could follow.

Rukia scowled, drawing her own zanpakutou and raising it. It was a feeling like ice and searing fire in her veins at the same time, reminding her just how perfect it felt to wield this weapon that bore her soul. _Sode no Shirayuki. _She called its name and then all she saw was white; beautiful white. Slowly, a smirk twisted her face. Pure blade held unwaveringly, she surveyed the sight in front of her. Suspended and encased by slender blades of ice, Gin's zanpakutou had stopped several feet from a fleeing Ichigo. "Coward, stabbing a man while his back is turned," Rukia hissed. "I hate people like you. Don't look that way. You are my opponent, Ichimaru-_taichou._"

Gin grinned, flicking pale hair away from eyes that had opened just enough to see deep black pupils surrounded by irises red like a sea of blood. "Aw, but I don't like fighting girls. I'll make an exception for ya, though, if you want me to."

Rukia scowled, and Ichimaru Gin smiled twistedly beneath creased eyes. Her scowl deepened, and he withdrew the sword from the thick barrier of ice until it was once again its original size.

He caressed the blade's quivering tip. "Aww... you made him mad. Shinsou ain't nice when he's mad."

Gin smiled. "Now he's going to have to have to kill you."

* * *

He was close. He was _so close_.

Ichigo looked around. His own heartbeat sounded like hollow explosions in his ears. His breaths echoed on the high ceiling of Las Noches, casting back to him louder than ever. Each footstep seemed like a crash, and he wondered if it was all his imagination, or if the halls were really just that empty.

Because even if Aizen had been forced to expend a great amount of effort to have all bases covered, would it not have remained a priority to keep a good amount of his army here? Ichigo wasn't any good with strategy or calculations, or anything of the sort, but it only seemed natural.

But Ichigo had encountered no one. He hadn't heard a single sound other than the deafening, frightening echoes of his own breaths and footsteps. He reached a large opening and stopped abruptly.

And the sudden sound of silence was louder than anything.

Even though the paths had changed, he recognized this place. It was the heart of the palace of the night. It was Aizen's sanctum, and the doors were wide open, as if inviting him to enter.

He'd never felt a fear like he felt in that moment. All the lights were on. Everything was lit, but no one was home.

He was too used to running thoughtlessly into battle. He was too used to enemies he could see, when the only possible actions were _draw your sword and fight—or die. _He wasn't used to the feeling that he had been manipulated. He wasn't used to walking forward even when he knew he'd been led to this place.

He walked forward anyway.

_For Rukia._

And he didn't think. As good as Rukia seemed to think it was, he couldn't think. Not right now, because the most possible outcome in the current situation was death.

"Ah, Kurosaki Ichigo, is it?"

He spun around, desperately scanning the elaborate seats and architecture until his eyes settled on a man clad in white and black, standing casually high above him on one of many raised steps that circled this strange room. Dark hair slipped over eyes devoid of emotion.

His eyes settled on a blade slowly being pulled from its sheath. The man's voice echoed ominously through the room. "_Kudakero... Kyouka Suigetsu._"

Ichigo watched, but nothing happened.

All of the sudden, a cold mockery of sympathy adorned the man's face. "You would have been lucky to be born blind, Kurosaki-san."

Aizen stood in front of him. Ichigo saw him, all the way up until the moment when cold, cold fingers settled on his shoulder. And he saw him even then, but when he turned around, Aizen was also behind him. Both of them smiled, but neither smile held any warmth.

Which was the illusion?

Ichigo spun in the opposite direction, but was quickly forced to turn around again as his other opponent—the same opponent—moved closer with a flash step.

He felt pain and the drip of warm blood against his side, and suddenly, the man ahead of him faded. The cold fingers on his shoulder were still there, and the blade was just as icy as it was pulled from his flesh. Ichigo coughed weakly and grabbed for his zanpakutou.

Aizen Sousuke was in front of him before Ichigo could register the change. His head tilted slightly so that a twisted smile was visible beneath his empty eyes.

"Welcome, Kurosaki Ichigo. Welcome to my nightmare."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Ah... sorry about ending it like that! I meant to put in another scene, but I didn't want to make this chapter run on forever. I'm having fun writing this! I hope it was okay to read. Looks like I've gotten _almost_ everyone in deep trouble. (_grins_) I'll have to wait until the next chapter to get the rest of them that way. Well, I wanted to put this chapter up today, because starting tomorrow morning, I'll be gone at camp. A whole week without a drop of internet access! I'll have a lot to do when I get back. Hehe, at the risk of more flames (ah, well, they're okay, too) ... **Please Review?**


	13. Time of Dying

**Time of Dying**

**Disclaimer/Notes:** Agh! I know... anyone who is kind enough to read this has every right to come after me with torches. Hehe, I'll even leave my door unlocked, for if someone wants to kill me for taking so long to update. But... I'm really sorry! Things have been very hectic for various reasons. Add a serious writer's block to that, and I've been largely unable to type any words that I didn't immediately erase and/or regret _thinking_, much less actually putting them down. But... the story is coming to its close, and I don't want to miss anything. Despite all the trouble I've gotten the characters into, I really want to keep them in-character, so... hehe, I'm really sorry it's taken so long, but I hope the story is better for it. To anyone who is still reading, I am more thankful than words can even say. I owe you much more than mere gratitude.

* * *

She just blinked at him a few times, and he stared blankly back.

"Oh," she said. "Oh _my_." And it was at that point that Ishida Ryuuken decided that the girl was indeed mentally deficient.

"Excuse me," he murmured—cursorily, because no one here could see him anyway. If there had been time, he would have apologized for knocking her down, but time was in short supply here. He stepped out of her way and began moving forward.

The girl stood to her feet, dusting herself off and hurriedly looking around. "...You're excused," she told him blankly. And now she was _facing _him. A clueless look passed over her face, and she rubbed the side of her head, which had been the unfortunate recipient of most of the force when she had ungracefully hit the ground several moments previously. "Could you please tell me which way I was going?" she said. "I'm a bit confused and I need to hurry."

_That makes two of us, then._ Ryuuken met the girl's eyes, noting her immediate response to his gaze. He gave a very annoyed glance to the artifact he carried with him, and wondered why this girl could see him. If this stupid contraption had stopped working, he was in for a world of trouble. Quickly calming himself down, he evaluated all the possibilities. He took in the determined set to the girl's jaw, the pallor of her skin, and the loosely fitting shinigami robes that somehow seemed alien on her slender form. "You're from the human world, aren't you?" he asked at last. That would go a long way toward explaining everything.

"Ehhh..." She uncertainly spun her gaze in his direction before returning it to the road ahead. "I can't waste time. It was this way, I think..."

"The human world," Ryuuken repeated impatiently. "You're from Karakura, aren't you?"

She seemed torn between continuing onward and staying there. "Umm... how did you know?"

This one really knew nothing of the ways of subtlety, did she? It was a wonder that she wasn't dead. "Come with me, then."

"Huh?" She stopped suddenly, her breath forced out and back in with a desperate gasp. "I can't sense him anymore..."

And then a realization Ryuuken him very, very hard as well. _Please God_, please _tell me this isn't the girl Uryuu was willing to lose his life over. Surely he has better taste than this._

But he asked anyway. "Who is it that you're looking for?"

"Ishida-kun," the girl replied bluntly.

_It figures._ Ryuuken swore to give Uryuu an earful next time he saw him. Surely he could have chosen a more sophisticated example of the female species. Ryuuken sighed. "I'm searching for him, as well. Follow me. I know where he is." It would probably be a problem to drag someone like her around for any period of time, but as cold-hearted as he would have liked to be, she would surely get herself in more trouble alone, if her current actions were any indication. Of course, that little bump on the head could have rattled her, too.

"You're looking for him, too? What a coincidence!" She stepped in beside him as he started walking again, following his destination's deep resonation with the device he carried. The honey-haired girl looked at him for several moments. "You look familiar. Do I know you?"

"No," Ryuuken said, hurrying up the steep hill's incline. _Did this child have to talk incessantly?_

"What's your name?"

"Ryuuken," he said absently. "Ishida Ryuuken."

Her eyebrows knit for a moment. "I see." Then a flash of almost pitiful inspiration. "Oh! You're Ishida-kun's dad!"

_Ten points._ "We have to hurry."

The girl nodded, keeping up with his pace, though he could see that she was quite winded. Her pained steps suggested that she had been running for a long time. They finally stopped in front of a gray stone building. The deep foundations suggested multiple underground levels.

Ryuuken examined the structure. There seemed only to be a single entrance. Opening the door would be the quickest route, but also the most predictable. Any number of things could be waiting for him there. "We don't need to be subtle. He already knows I'll be here, anyway. This window suggests that there is a room beyond this wall. Perhaps—"

"The wall," the girl said quietly. "Wouldn't it be easier to go straight through, if subtlety isn't a concern?"

Ryuuken raised his eyebrows. "Pardon me?"

"If you need to get through the wall," she said. "I can break it down." And he heard a determination in her voice that forced him to reconsider his initial evaluation of her.

"Ah..." Ryuuken looked at the weak-looking, mild-mannered child, and wondered yet again if he'd heard her wrong. Before he could say anything, she spoke again. Slender fingers touched to the bright clips in her hair, and, closing her eyes, she whispered, "Tsubaki!" Ryuuken couldn't even follow the blade of light that flashed in front of his eyes before it connected with the wall. Three clean, silent cuts sent a section of the wall tumbling down. The flash of light returned, and when it faded, Ryuuken found himself staring at...

A very tiny... person.

"Is that all you wanted? Stupid!" the small person criticized, knocking her on the head. "If only you could muster that much conviction when fighting people, then maybe I wouldn't be locked up so much." He returned to her clip, and Orihime looked forward at the gaping opening. Rock dust fell from the almost cruelly surgical cuts in the wall, revealing a small room.

"Is that big enough, you think?" she asked innocently.

The proper words refused to come. "Ah... it'll do," he said.

He would have to remind himself not to mess with this girl.

They walked into the dust-obscured darkness inside. As they walked farther into the gaping entrance, cold air washed over them, dry and weightless and somehow forbidding. They walked on.

* * *

A feint.

A quick withdrawing and a following strike.

A gasp of breath, a quick movement—not fast enough—and the gentle patter of blood on cold white tile. Shinsou withdrew. Gasping, Rukia winced as the flow of blood increased, dripping quickly from the clean slice in her shoulder. Her expression darkened as she swung her sword, releasing a blade of ice toward his head.

"Oh _my_," Gin said. He flash-stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding her attack. The ice slammed into the wall behind him, shattering and cutting gouges into the flawless white stone from the force of impact. Rukia growled curses under her breath.

After a moment, a satisfied smirk quirked the corner of her mouth. "...Not so perfect, huh?"

A razor-thin slice marked his face, brightened by the slow spread of scarlet around it. He absently wiped at the thin stream of blood that trailed down with the pad of his thumb, then licked it away. "That wasn't nice, Rukia-chan." A grin spread over his face.

Shinsou darted out without warning, and Rukia leapt to the side. The blade stopped in midair and twisted, redirecting its attack toward her. It struck at knee-height, giving her no option to dodge or run. Instinctively, she jumped. Her feet landed atop the blade—feather-light—and she launched herself off with shunpou. She landed on her feet, closer to him, blade at the ready. Spatters of blood marked the ground on which she stood, and her breaths came in sharp, labored gasps.

Gin sighed. "Y'know, I really don't want to kill you, Rukia-chan."

Rukia swung her blade violently in his direction, and ice spread from its tip to the point where he stood, enveloping a section five feet wide from floor to ceiling, a beautiful but deadly display.

Ichimaru dodged yet again, landing mere inches away from the blade's influence.

"I can't say I return your sentiments," Rukia growled dangerously.

Gin shrugged, still smiling. "Didn't say ya had to." He raised his blade, and the already tainted smile took on a mocking darkness. "It's just I'll be sad when I havta bury you, is all."

Rukia huffed breathlessly, eyes casting tired malice at him. "Don't... get so cocky," she hissed.

Gin sighed. "You remind me of someone," he said. "So much like her, but so different. I'll never understand it." He shot Shinsou out.

Rukia dodged fluidly.

Or... that was what she told her body to do. Exhaustion had taken its toll, and she merely stumbled. It wasn't enought to get away from the oncoming blade.

"Oh my!" It stopped right before her heart. Gin grinned. "Such a useless thing, the heart. Don't you think? I cut mine out a while back. You see... unnecessary trappings bind you to fear. Things and places and people... And fear isn't something that we shinigami need, now, is it?" He laughed at her acidic glare. "Would you like to die before or after Aizen-sama kills that boy of yours?"

Rukia bristled, shocked, but quickly hardened her demeanor. "Ichigo will win," she growled.

Gin's smile twisted in a dark mockery of sympathy. He lifted his face into the air for a moment, then turned scarlet eyes upon her. "But can't you smell his blood?"

Angrily, without warning, Rukia launched a fusillade of ice from her zanpakutou with a violent flick of the blade. The ice, like so many invisible blades, captured the light from the high ceiling, making it seem like diamonds shining through the air in the moment before they struck. Several hit their mark. Gin tore a small shard of ice from his shoulder, throwing it to the side and shaking excess water from his hands.

He chuckled. "Touchy subject, I s'pose. I guess that means after?"

Rukia tightened her grip on Sodeno Shirayuki and flash-stepped toward Gin. "_No_," she said sharply. "It means I don't plan on dying anytime soon."

* * *

A nightmare was promised, and a nightmare it was. In this place where the only color was a lifeless white, the first thing he saw was the red of his own blood before his eyes.

Everything after that was a blur of black and white and the metallic ring of clashing blades, interspersed with spatters of his own blood and the fading mist of illusions. Aizen didn't even need to say it; his eyes and languid, mirthless half-smile spoke of a superiority that couldn't be breached. _I'm better than you_, his eyes said.

_I'll tear you apart, child_, whispered the smile on his face. The man was merciless, but moved with such ease that he could have been weeding his garden. He looked pleasantly lazy, barely interested with the current events, and completely assured with his inevitable victory.

Ichigo held the grip of his blade with such force that his skin tore upon impact with Aizen's sword.

The blade itself didn't seem to have any special properties. It was easy enough to counter it. Easy, that was, until he wasn't sure what was illusion and what was real. Easy until, even with the speed of his bankai, he couldn't avoid all of those many illusions, until one of them sank cold metal into his body from behind or beneath or directly in front, until the dark shinigami robes were ragged and dampened with blood.

"Your efforts are admirable," Aizen said softly, and Ichigo was happy to see the man gasping a little with exertion. Well, if he couldn't kill him right now, he could at least give him a workout. Even though Aizen was completely untouched by Ichigo's blade, it was nice to know that he was still human.

And all humans, even those who were shinigami, could die.

Ichigo hissed a laugh through his teeth at the ex-shinigami's compliment. "You say that like I've lost already," he growled, forcing Zangetsu's slender black blade against Aizen's. The metal scraped and twisted as both fighters tried to free themselves without getting cut.

In all honesty, Ichigo was horrible when it came to strategy. In battle, he couldn't make room to think of the consequences of any particular action. He acted instinctively, without thought. When denied the opportunity to strike, he was left with nothing. He could swing all he wanted at these illusions, wasting his remaining energy while never once locking blades with his _real_ opponent. And when he was as his weakest, Aizen would strike.

Like right now.

Ichigo gasped erratically and pushed harder against Aizen's attack.

If things went on like this, he was going to lose. Without expending much effort, Aizen was using illusions to distract Ichigo. While he could have chosen to ignore them, he had to counter _each one_ for fear that its blade wouldn't be an illusion, and would pierce him. And at the time when he was reeling from exhaustion and confusion, Aizen moved in. It was a simple strategy, but there was no way for him to counter it.

_No._

His grip had begun to weaken.

He wasn't allowed to give up like this.

Ichigo used his remaining strength to push against Aizen's blade. _Aizen._ This was really him. Not an illusion. This was... his only chance. The orange-haired shinigami laughed inwardly at himself. _So make something of it, you idiot._

He surely wouldn't be able to maintain Bankai for much longer, but if he didn't use the time he had, he was dead. Using the speed lent to him by his bankai, he ran forward, unlocking his blade from Aizen's and ducking the following swing from Aizen's free blade in a graceful sweep of his body. The pain, in that moment, tore through his body, setting every nerve afire with life, in the way that some stars burn brightest before they die. With the moment-long opening offered by his actions, he lunged.

The sick resistance of flesh against metal told him he'd hit his mark.

He twisted the blade and withdrew sharply, moving out of the range of any counterattack, then looking back to his target with a sharp glare. Yes. A flower of blood blossomed on Aizen's once sterile white clothing.

He let out a gasp as the taste of blood welled behind his teeth, and the strength drained from his limbs. He fell roughly to the ground, only managing to catch himself by burying the blade of his zanpakutou into the floor. The blade morphed back to its large unreleased form, and he knew that he would be dead soon. Ichigo coughed and spit blood down to the sterile white floor.

If not for that blade, he probably would have fallen by now.

And what if he did?

Ichigo grit his teeth, tasting the sick taste of copper.

His body was far too weak now to hold his zanpakutou's final release. He was exhausted and drained. He had no sight, no strength, no speed. A trail of blood fell slickly from the corner of his mouth.

He choked weakly on the metallic liquid.

Aizen circled mercilessly, a predator coldly taunting its prey before coming in for the final strike. His movements were slower, pained, but he was still standing while Ichigo had fallen. Ichigo closed his eyes. Soon, even willpower wouldn't be able to keep him on his feet. Soon, he would be dead and Aizen would be alive—and Rukia would be all alone.

Ichigo felt the realization jolt like electricity through his body.

_Rukia. He had promised he'd meet her when she was done. He had promised himself that he would not let her down. He had promised... that he wouldn't leave her alone._

That promise would decay into a lie. Her reiatsu pulsed reassuringly like a distant heartbeat in his mind, and he knew she was alive.

_Rukia... I will not let you down._

He stood to his feet and used the last of his strength to release his zanpakutou. The slender black blade mocked him.

_Even if it means letting that darkness wash over me._

That determination took control of his mind and dragged the boy named Ichigo deeper and deeper down, until the spreading darkness stole his control and sent him spiraling into nothingness.

When he finally spoke again, the voice was not his own. A jagged mask streaked with smears of red like blood obscured half of his face.

"I don't think we've met before," the hollow hissed at the inconspicuous captain, happy malice coloring his voice. "I'm here to kill you."

* * *

They had been travelling the halls for about ten minutes when they arrived in the center of the building. Unable to locate any significant reiatsu, their search efforts were reduced to almost nothing. Ryuuken had deemed it best to start from the center and search outward, and to his surprise, the first thing he saw on entering the research laboratory's central room was his son.

The next moments were a rather pathetic mess of exclamations, in which everyone seemed to say each other's names—in what ranged from disbelief, to happiness, to anger—at about the same moment.

"It's not safe here! Orihime, what are you _doing_—"

Orihime immediately interrupted with a broken murmur. "Ishida-kun! I'm so glad you're—"

Ryuuken cut her off deftly. "Uryuu, you fool."

The dark-haired boy blinked. "Ryuuken?"

And still, he entertained that horribly rude habit of his. Could he, just once, call him father?

Ryuuken's eyes wandered down to his son, who was securely fastened to a chair in the corner. His gaze caught on the reiatsu-dampening cuffs. No wonder he hadn't been able to sense any. "Come on, then. This surely isn't going to be easy, but if we can get you out of there before that psychopath returns, all the better."

Orihime ran forward, using her Shun Shun Rikka to slice the first cuff away. "I've never done this before!" she made sure to tell him. "So just stay _very_ still. I only want to cut the cuffs."

Ishida decided that it was a bit like using a dangerous knife to sharpen a pencil, but he was glad that she had found an alternate use for her abilities. He made sure to stay completely still, though. Last time he'd checked, Tsubaki hated his guts, and Orihime was still a little bit absentminded. If he came away from this with both hands intact, he'd be lucky.

The first cuff fell away.

"Thanks, Inoue-san." He raised his other wrist, holding it still as desperate thoughts flashed through his head. Kurotsuchi... that man... he was probably close. _Inoue, please hurry—before..._

_Before_—

The room suddenly turned ice cold as a voice crackled through it.

"What a wonderful reunion. I see you all made it here."

In the wake of his previous thoughts, Ishida was left to wonder if thinking about misfortune really did bring it upon you. Footsteps clattered against the solid floors, and the silhouette of Kurotsuchi Mayuri appeared in the doorway. "You're all where I wanted you. How wonderful." He smiled.

It was a secret smile with a twisted, acid-tainted joy that only a demon like him could share. "I'll kill you all," he said.

Ishida winced. Inoue's second cut had missed, nicking the cups and his wrist in a sharp, off-course swerve before Tsubaki returned to her. "_You_..." he growled to the man standing in the door.

Uryuu gritted his teeth as the deep-colored liquid poured copiously from the slice in his wrist, spilling over the heavy reiatsu-dampening cuff and landing on the floor with vague, barely audible dripping sounds. Mayuri smiled. "My, aren't we looking helpless today, Quincy." He watched the steady drip of Ishida's blood to the floor. "I'll kill you all," he said. Sickly, methodically, his eyes roved over each one of them.

"You," he said to Ishida, coolly, with an undertone of amusement, "have been subdued. You," His gaze went to Orihime, now, "have no killing intent." And finally, to Ryuuken. "And you are driven by emotion. You're here exactly as I planned for you to be." His eyes lingered on Orihime, and Ishida stood to his feet angrily, but was unable to say a word when Mayuri spoke again. "You, however... I wasn't expecting you here just yet. That filthy girl Nemu lapsed in her duties, didn't she? Oh well. Aizen should be especially happy to receive you early."

Indescribable fear visibly shook Orihime at the mention of the ex shinigami captain's name.

"He's expressed a great deal of interest in the merits of your abilities, you know." Mayuri smiled. "And I, of course, am quite happy with the arrangement."

"You're... betraying Soul Socety?" Ishida ground out.

"I was never attached to them in the first place. I go where te research terms are the most generous. Coincidentally, they are with him. Now, no more idle chatter. Stop struggling; I don't plan to let go of you easily."

Scowling acidically, Ryuuken drew his bow. "No one said it had to be _easy_," he hissed.

* * *

**_Author's Notes:_** Yikes! I was really freaked out, writing most of this, because I've never written many fighting scenes before, so the scenes with Ichigo and Rukia gave me a huge amount of trouble. This story should be seeing its end very soon. Again, to anyone who is still reading, I owe you my first-born. Or chocolate. Bunches and bunches of chocolate. (Whichever is tastier.) I'd appreciate _any_ thoughts at all. **Please Review?**

**Update July/08: **I am in the process of rewriting the final chapters, since I lost all that I had written before, due to a mistake. I've completed an outline, so now all I have to do is put everything into words. So that writer's block will not be able to take me down _again, _I'm going to complete as much as I can of the last several chapters before posting the next one, so that I'll have backup while I make the final touch-ups. I can't possibly apologize enough for the _unforgivably long _delay, but I promise I will try to post the rest as soon as possible.

I'm afraid that the delay is also partially because the Bleach manga has failed to capture my interest for a long time with the endless, substanceless battles that plagued the Hueco Mundo Arc. I will definitely, definitely finish this story, but I'm battling with the need for inspiration. I can't be so rude as to ask for your continued patience, but I thank you for your patience thus far—so, so much. I _will _finish this story, somehow, some way. Thank you more than words can express to those who have left their kind reviews. You guys are always what keeps me writing. I feel honored, as a writer, to have such kind readers.

_Sincerely,_  
Alaena


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